


Come With Me

by operatorrhythmi



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Emotionally Abusive Relationships, M/M, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-02
Updated: 2015-07-13
Packaged: 2018-03-16 01:25:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 38,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3469232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/operatorrhythmi/pseuds/operatorrhythmi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Living homeless on the streets of Lumiose City, Cress, Cilan, and Chili struggle with their everyday lives. Siebold, chef and owner of a world renowned restaurant, struggles with the daily life of an emotionally abusive relationship, and doesn't see much good in the world. A chance encounter between Cress and Siebold changes both their world's for the better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

Come With Me

 

Prologue

 

 

 

**Thursday, 8 January 2015.  Afternoon.  Outskirts of Lumiose City**

 

            “I suppose we should take the good weather as a good omen?”  The question had been rephrased all day from countless others as they offered their cheap words of sympathy.  It was beginning to get on Siebold’s very last nerve. 

            He knew that it was an unusually warm day for early January.  Anybody native to the Kalos region could have told him that.  If anything, he hated the irony of it all. 

            A day that was supposed to be filled with sorrow and mourning had turned out to be very lovely.  The cold that had long persisted since November had decided to lighten its icy grip on this one day in particular.  It was almost a tragedy in itself that the weather failed to match the mood by pouring a relentless downpour.  Rain was fit for a funeral.  Not sunshine. 

            “You could say that.”  He would distantly respond.  The phrase had become his default response.  He was always a man of few words, but it never pained him to talk.  Not like today, at least. 

            The woman standing next to him placed a gentle touch on his arm. He stiffened in response, wanting to be left alone.  However, he knew that she wouldn’t leave him alone.  She knew that, deep down, he couldn’t stand the thought of being alone at this point in time. 

            He un-tucked his hand, placing it atop hers, offering a light squeeze.   

            “Think of it as your parents sending you good weather.” 

            He didn’t respond, only looking on as the cemetery workers began to fill in the hole in the ground.  His mother had just been buried on the bottom, and now they were finishing burying his father on the top half of the grave. 

            The tombstone at the head of the grave really put it all into perspective for him.  They were gone.  His father, who he had talked to only a week ago: gone.  His mother: gone for good. 

            “Narcisse” marked the middle.  His father’s name was written on the left tombstone, and his mother on the right.  

_James E. 7 September 1969 – 1 January 2015_

_Noémi C.  14 July 1967 – 1 January 2015_

            It almost felt wrong that their graves were just that.  No meaningful epitaph.  No design –just cold, gray slate.  Not even a small design to recognize that his father was a renowned chef. 

            Siebold sighed, looking to the dark-haired woman next to him.  “Maybe my father, but not my mother,” he finally responded. 

            Her blue eyes looked at him with sympathy.  “Siebold–”

            “Diantha,” he cut off. 

            She squeezed his arm.  “I know she left abruptly, but I do believe she still loved you.” 

            He merely looked away.  “Believe what you want,” he hissed. 

            She hated the bitterness in his tone.  They had known each other since they were children, but she had never heard anger quite like this.  Anger really didn’t fit the description, though.  She felt it was more of a bitter mixture of despair and contempt. 

            The crowd had finally disappeared, offering him their final condolences, leaving only Siebold, Diantha, and the workers atop the hill. 

            Moments later, two cars pulled into the nearly empty parking lot.  Two men stepped out of their cars, one carrying a large bouquet of flowers. 

            The man carrying the flowers gave the other man a strange look.  He had never seen him before.  Figuring he was some friend of Siebold’s mother, he disregarded him, hastily making his way up the stone path. 

            “So sorry I’m late.  The florist lost our order,” he spoke, watching as Siebold and Diantha parted. 

            The blond man shrugged it off, turning back to the grave.  “It’s okay, Jean.  You didn’t miss much.”  The workers had finished packing the dirt. They offered their own condolences to Siebold, and soon went on their way. 

            Their words were hollow and meant nothing to Siebold.  They had probably rehearsed those lines a million times, offering them to countless families. 

            Jean went and placed the bouquet neatly between the two headstones, careful to not block out the name.  Years of working at the Narcisse’s restaurant as the sauté chef left him with an astounding attention for detail, and he couldn’t let them down just yet. 

            Looking over the two graves, the brown-haired man gave a nod of respect, returning to Siebold’s side.  “Diantha,” he greeted, looking over at the petite woman. 

            She smiled at him, her only form of acknowledgement.  He was fully aware that she didn’t like him, but now wasn’t the time for them to be rude to one another. 

            “Mister Narcisse?” 

            Siebold turned at the mention of his last name.  “Yes?”  He asked. 

            “My name is Louis Bise.  I was your father’s attorney.  I know I come at a bad time, but there are a few legal matters we need to discuss,” he said in a gruff voice. 

            Siebold suppressed a sigh, stepping forward.  “I’ll see you two later,” he dismissed. 

            Jean reached out to grab his hand.  “Everything is going to be okay, Siebold.  I promise.” 

            The other man was silent as he tore away from his grip.  “I’ll see you later” he bit. 

            Jean and Diantha watched as Siebold followed the older man.  Once more, everything was silent.  Even the Fletchling seemed to know it was a bad time to speak. 

            Diantha, however, didn’t quite see it that way.  “Looking forward to that immanent promotion to sous chef, Mister Lucien?” She asked, not bothering to look at the person she was directing her question to. 

            He laughed through his nose.  “Don’t assume things, Diantha.  Siebold is free to make his own decisions.”  He started back down the path, heading for his own vehicle.  Stopping, he couldn’t resist one last quip.  “Though, I can’t help it if I influence him.” 

            Diantha crossed her arms, not saying a word.  A cemetery was not the place to pick a fight, despite how much she wanted to. 

            Turning back to the grave, she shook her head.  She felt hot under her black dress.  “I bet you’re rolling in your grave as I speak,” she said, looking at James’s side of the tombstone. 

             A cooling breeze swept over the hill, almost giving her a sense of confirmation. 

 

 

            “What exactly do we need to discuss?”  Siebold asked, sitting across from his father’s attorney in a stuffy old office. 

            “It’s about your father’s will,” Louis simply began, placing a stack of papers on the desk. 

            Siebold internally groaned.  If there was one thing he hated, it was unnecessarily long paper work.  

            “He left you everything,” the attorney continued. 

            Siebold knew he shouldn’t have been surprised.  He expected as much.  It still left him feeling that way.  “Everything?”  He asked. 

            The old man nodded.  “Everything,” he confirmed.  “The mansion in the northern section of Lumiose is yours, as are all of your father’s investments.  That, obviously, includes his restaurant.” 

            Apple Of The Earth: a restaurant known throughout Kalos.  It was regarded as the best in the region, and one of the best in the world.  Everyone knew the restaurant.  Siebold was currently the sous chef, and his father had been the executive chef on top of being the owner.  It wasn’t too much of a step up.  Being the sous chef, it left him already filling in for a lot of his father’s duties. 

            He didn’t like that he didn’t have someone to keep an eye on him, though.  After all, he was only eighteen as of a week ago.  He was already considerably young to be a sous chef.  To be an owner of such a prestigious restaurant at his age was unheard of.    

            “I’m sure you realize you’re very young to own such a renowned restaurant.  If I may, I suggest making sure your sous chef is someone you trust completely.  You might even consider not becoming executive chef.  Handing that title to someone who has more experience might be a good idea.”  

            Siebold didn’t have to be told twice.  He already knew who he would turn the position over to.  “I’ve already given that thought.  Thank you, though,” he responded. 

            The old man nodded in acknowledgement.  “Alright then.  We should also talk about your father’s life insurance policies.  Between the policy he had on him, and your own inheritance, you’re going to come into a lot of money.  Obviously, there will be investigations to make sure there is no foul play…”

            He continued to drone on and on, offering advice on what he should and shouldn’t do.  It was all very tiresome. 

            By the end of the day, after returning home, all he could bring himself to do was lie down on his bed.  Hours passed, and his whole body ached from being still for so long.  But it hurt just as much to move. 

            The sounds of the house staff moving about were usually soft.  Now, they were deafening.  He vowed he would reduce the staff if it would bring him any peace.   

            After all, they only served to remind him of his parents at this point. 

            Forcing himself to look at the clock on his nightstand, he groaned when it only read 7:48pm.  Having been up since 6:00am, and having little to no sleep the days prior, it felt like midnight. 

            A nock at his door brought him out of his self-pity.  “Young master.”  He couldn’t remember how many times he told them to never call him that.  “Dinner is ready,” the soft voice spoke from behind the door. 

            “I’ll be down shortly,” he replied, not moving from his spot. 

            For the rest of the night, he didn’t move from the spot no matter how many times the staff tried to get him to leave.  He didn’t even bother to take off his suit.  He lied on his bed, staring at the wall, only falling asleep as the sun began to rise. 

.

.

.


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter One

 

**Monday, 5 June 2017. Night.  Apple Of The Earth - Lumiose City.**

            “Special Order!” The caller yelled back to the kitchen for the umpteenth time that night. 

            “Heard!” Jean called in response, looking to Siebold to make sure he also heard the order. 

            The blond man only nodded in response, not taking his eyes off the scallops he was currently preparing. He swore he would take the damn things off the menu for a few nights, regretting the decision to have made them the nightly special. 

            The dinner rush felt relentless.  The spring and summer months were always their busiest time of the year thanks to all the tourism. While it was excellent for business, it was having the opposite effect on his mental health. Cooking was supposed to be a joy, but difficult customers didn’t make it that way.  

            Once the scallops were cooked to an even, golden brown, he removed them from the heat, transferring them to a bed of wilted spinach and fennel.  He then handed it off to a demi chef to be garnished. 

            Throwing the next batch of scallops into the pan, he began the routine of seasoning them.

            By the end of the night, he felt like all he could smell was scallops. 

            Making sure his cooks were beginning to shut down the back of the house, he sighed as he stepped out into the dining room.  He hated not being able to walk around the restaurant.  He had full confidence in his managers, but there was something satisfying about seeing how everyone was reacting to his staff’s work. 

            The closing servers were moving about the dining room, clearing away any remaining dishes. Walking over to a few tables, he grabbed some empty wine glasses, assisting in clearing the dining room. The sooner he got everyone off his clock the better. 

            Once all of the table clothes had been removed for washing, and the dining room was cleared, he allowed his servers to leave. 

            Jean was busy with the back of the house making sure things were running smoothly.  The two men were eager to leave.  It had been a long week for the two of them, and Siebold, in particular, was looking forward to his weekend off. 

            Normally, he wouldn’t have liked to leave the restaurant for such an extended period of time. He was there all six days it was open, Monday through Saturday, during dinner hours, and sometimes even taking double shifts by being there when they opened in the afternoon. However, he was confident that Jean could handle the restaurant on his own.  After all, that’s why he was the sous chef. 

            Looking to the clock, he knew it would be well past midnight before they could all leave.

            A hand on his shoulder made him jump.  “Jean, don’t do that,” he hissed upon realizing who it was. 

            The shorter man put his hands up defensively.  “Sorry, Siebold.” He paused, waiting for Siebold’s attention.  “Look, go home. I’ve got everything under control.”

            Under any other circumstance, Siebold would have declined the offer.  Tonight, however, he couldn’t bring himself to refuse.

            Digging in his pockets, he pulled out a ring of keys.  Placing it in the other man’s hands, he headed for his office.  “Thank you, Jean,” he said. 

            The brown-haired man followed him.  “Do you want me to come over tonight?”  He asked, watching as Siebold grabbed for his coat. 

            “No.  You work tomorrow, and you get extremely grumpy when you don’t get enough sleep,” he dismissed, pushing past the other man.

            Jean rolled his eyes at the younger man.  “I’ll be over as soon as I’m done here,” he told him. 

            Siebold shrugged, continuing to walk away.  “Do what you like,” he conceded.  Stepping out into the late spring night, it really began to overpower him how much he smelled like scallops. 

            Heading for home, his only priority was a shower. 

            Thankfully, the home he owned in the city was only a few blocks away from his restaurant. He still owned the mansion in northern Lumiose, but he hated going there for numerous reasons. For the most part, he told himself he hated the commute from there to the restaurant. 

            He kept his gaze downcast, not wanting to make eye contact with anyone around him. He didn’t want to risk talking to anyone.  Not tonight.

            While walking, a young man ran past him, nearly knocking him down in the process.  “Sorry!”  They yelled, not stopping. 

            Siebold looked back, ready to yell at the person for being so careless.  However, the person was already out of sight, a Pansear turning the corner. 

            “Get back here, you rotten thief!”  A more mature voice yelled in the opposite direction. 

            Siebold huffed an angry sigh, readjusting the grip on his coat as he continued his walk home. Petty squabbles over stolen food from a different venue were the least of his concern. 

            The thought of a hot shower, and his ocean scented body wash cleansing away the smell of scallops was the only thing he cared about.  

            Once he reached his townhome, he climbed up the stairs and let himself in.  Hanging his coat on a wall hook, he headed for the couch, telling himself he would only sit down for a minute.  That minute turned into five, and that five turned into an hour. By that point, he had completely lost the will to actually get up and shower.  His muscles had finally stopped screaming at him from standing all day.

            Sure, the spot he was sitting in would probably smell like scallops, but he didn’t care.

            Rubbing his tired eyes, he let his mind wander though the day’s events.  He could have sworn his hands were still stuck in the motion of preparing the night’s special. 

            Leaning forward, he tried to remove his jacket, but found himself unable to perform even that mundane of a task.  Sighing defeat, he fell back into the couch, lying there with his jacket half off.

            An hour later, he was awoken from a light sleep with the sound of his door opening. 

            “You didn’t even shower, did you?”  Jean accused, closing the door behind him. 

            Siebold shrugged. “Was it my half off jacket or my eau du _coquille_ that tipped you off?” He asked, casting him a sarcastic glance. 

            Jean snorted a laugh, hanging his coat next to Siebold’s. “Both,” he answered, walking around the loveseat to stand in front of Seibold.  “Come on, get up,” he ordered.

            The blond merely stared at him, unwilling to move from his spot. 

            “Don’t give me that look,” Jean responded, leaning down to get Siebold out of his jacket. Grabbing the other man’s hands, he pulled him to his feet. 

            With a grumble, Siebold obeyed, trudging away to his bathroom. 

            “Want company?” Jean asked, a suggestive glint in the depths of his muddy eyes. 

            Siebold didn’t even give it a second’s thought.  “No.”

            Jean grumbled in response. “Fine,” he replied, drawing out the ‘i’ to amplify his disappointment.  It didn’t change the other man’s stance any. 

            “I’m not in the mood, Jean.” And that was that. He refused to say any more.

            Jean accepted his decision, but wasn’t happy about it.  “Just hurry up, then,” he said as the other man closed the door to the bathroom.

            Siebold waited a few minutes before releasing the sigh he had been holding on to. 

            Turning on the shower, he finally began the process of disrobing himself. 

            It was going to be a long weekend.  That much he was sure of.

 

 

 

**Tuesday, 6 June 2017. Midnight.  Alleyways of Lumiose City.**

            Heart pounding, the young man continued to run.  Pansear had finally caught up to him, leaping on his shoulder.  Their pursuer seemed to have fallen behind, but he knew better than to risk being caught. 

            The warm air slowed his movements, but he refused to give up.  He needed to make it to Jaune Plaza.  It was his only safe haven at this point. 

            With the yellow-tinted brick in sight, he gave his last push of energy. 

            “Chili!” A chorus of voices greeted him as he ducked into one of the alleyways. 

            Panting, he took a moment to catch his breath.  “Hey, guys,” he finally responded, still breathing heavily. 

            Only a few people occupied the alleyway.  Both his brothers were still gone, so it appeared he was the only one to make it back so far.

            Digging into his bag, he pulled out a few loaves of bread.  “We didn’t get much,” he said in an apologetic tone. 

            One of the men eagerly took one of the loaves.  “No, man, it’s okay! Any food is good food.” The rugged looking man walked over to a few others, dividing out pieces amongst them.

            Taking a seat against the wall, he and Pansear allowed themselves to calm down from their raid of the bakery. Pansear patted his face, taking the piece of bread that was then offered to him. 

            Hours later, the rest of the group that had gone out to get food returned.  Most of them came back empty handed.  Luckily, his brothers had better luck.  All in all, it was a good night.  Everyone had food in their stomachs, which was a victory in itself.

            His two brothers sat across from him, eating their share of the meal. 

            “How was everyone’s day?” Cress began after a few minutes of silence, wiping his mouth of any crumbs.  

            “Tiring,” Cilan answered, keeping an eye on the Pansage curled up in his lap.   

            Chili nodded in agreement. “I almost got caught. If it hadn’t been for some guy taking up space on the street, I might have had to use Pansear to get us out.”

            Cress looked at him, worry tracing his features for only a second.

            The remainder of the night was completely silent.  Everyone was too busy enjoying the feeling of having a full stomach to waste energy speaking. Any stories they wanted to share were going to be saved for a night when they needed distraction from their hunger.  

            It was very late into the night, and Cress found himself wide-awake.  Panpour was curled up with his bothers’ pokémon, so he was careful to not disturb them as he stood. 

            Walking out of the alley, he decided to walk around the block.  Most of the stores were closed, but the storefronts were still lit. It amazed him how such wonderful stores lined the walls to poverty.  Behind these elaborate cases of jewelry and other fine items were people struggling to even survive. 

            It made him envious.

            He longed for a life of luxury. A life where he didn’t have to worry about his next meal.  A life where he knew his brother’s would be safe. 

            He stopped at the front of a clothing store, staring after the mannequins dressed in suits. He could only dream of having such fine items in his possession. 

            “I suppose if I’m going to dream, I might as well dream big,” he mumbled to himself, looking at his reflection in the glass.  His ratty clothes paled in comparison to the brand name clothes. 

            Turning on his heel, he continued his walk.  His stomach burned with envy. 

            It wasn’t fair that so many people got to live a life without worry, while others were getting trampled on at their expense.  He hated it. He hated the entire system.

            Kicking a pebble down the street, he tried to calm himself down with the repetitive motion.

            His mind was restless, however. Instead of calming him, the walk only seemed to worsen his mood.  Anytime he thought about their situation he started feeling sick.  The three of them were about to be eighteen. Eighteen, on top of being homeless, jobless, and having no formal education.  It felt like a never-ending downward spiral.  

            He tried to tell himself that, maybe, one day they would get out of their situation. However, he wasn’t an optimist. He refused to fill himself with false hope, because he didn’t want to end up believing his own words, only living to regret them later.  Getting his hopes and dreams smashed into a million pieces was nothing new, but it didn’t lessen the pain any.     

           

.

.

.

          


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

 

**Friday, 14 July 2017. Noon.  Apple Of The Earth - Lumiose City.**

 

            Walking about the restaurant, Siebold made sure to stop by every table, making sure everyone was having a pleasant experience.  Things were running smoothly, and the restaurant wasn’t as crowded as he had anticipated.

            With it being Kalos Independence Day, he figured the restaurant would be packed since they had one of the best views in the entire city. 

            A few regulars had stopped in, and while he greeted them as always, it pained him to see them. They had been friends of his father, and they always offered their sympathies.  It was getting old, and it took everything in his power to not tell them to stop.

            Grabbing a bottle of wine, he refilled a table’s glasses, going through his rehearsed greetings.

            “I hope you’re having a wonderful Independence Day.”  The words instinctively rolled off his tongue, but he was growing worried that someone might see through his mask. 

            Truth be told, he hated the holiday.  There were too many bitter memories he had that were associated with the day. However, he couldn’t inflict that upon his customers.  Just because he was bitter about most holidays didn’t mean everyone else had to be.  

            2:00pm rolled around fast. Dinner rush wouldn’t pick up until roughly 6:00, so he figured this was a good time to train new servers. He recently hired a young woman by the name Éve.  Though, young was a relative term, considering he was only twenty, and she was twenty-one.

            Éve had amazing people skills, and had worked in food service before. Siebold had full confidence that she would soon be on the floor, not having to follow him, or his head server around.

            She arrived promptly five minutes before her shift, eager to get working.  It was a needed breath of fresh air. 

            Allowing his morning manager to take over, Siebold got to work teaching her the ins and outs of his restaurant. She had already been over a lot with his other manager, Alexis, so for now he concentrated on helping her memorize the menu, and what the dishes looked like.  That way, in case an unpleasant-looking dish somehow made it past the chef de partie, she would be able to catch it. 

            If there was one thing Siebold prided himself on it was the taste as well as the appearance of his restaurant’s meals. 

            Later, they would take care of one table. For the most part, he would do the talking, but if he felt confident in her enough, he might let her introduce herself and take orders.

            Biding his time with training, he waited for the closing manager to arrive.  He hated doing it, but he refused to stay all night. He would stay long enough to make sure Alexis arrived on time, but he wouldn’t stay much longer than that.

            “Bon-jour, Chef!”

            The cheerful voice of his night manager rang throughout the kitchen, bringing a sense of relief to Siebold. Her voice meant it was now 5:00pm.  

            Turning around, he balanced a large tray in one hand, holding a table’s items.  “Alexis,” he greeted.  Looking to the server he was training, he nodded for her to go ahead of him.

            She disappeared behind the doors, leaving the two managers at the front of the kitchen. “Let me finish here, and I’ll be with you in a minute,” he told her. 

            Alexis flashed him her bright smile.  “Take your time, man.”

            Chuckling to himself, he hurried after Éve. 

            Alexis was native to Unova, and only come to Kalos about five years ago.  Her French was terrible as far as Siebold was concerned, and she rarely showed any formality in front of him.  Though, in front of customers, she was a completely different person –save the French. 

            His father had originally promoted her to manager because he loved the sense of life she brought to his staff.  Siebold felt similarly.

            Within another hour, all of their tables were gone, and Éve was able to get ready to leave. He congratulated her on a good day of work, and told her that she would be working with a different manager tomorrow evening. 

            Talking with Alexis, he then headed to his office to make sure things were in order.

            “I already organized your desk,” a voice said as Siebold was heading in that direction.

            He looked over his shoulder, seeing Jean leaning against the doorframe.  He then looked over his desk, assessing his work. 

            “You know I don’t like it when you do that,” Siebold grumbled, moving a few things back to their original spot. 

            Jean rolled his eyes. “Now, is that any way to thank me?” He asked, his footsteps treading lightly across the room. 

            Looking over the other man, Siebold noticed that Jean was rubbing his wrist.  Forcing himself to disregard it, he shrugged in response to his question.  “Forgive me, I’m tired,” he grumbled as if to exemplify his words. 

            “Which is why I took the time to do that for you,” Jean spoke, walking up to stand in front of the desk.

            Sitting down, Siebold took a moment to read over a few letters, not responding to Jean.

            This upset his sous chef. Sitting across from him, he reached for Siebold’s hand that was going for a letter. 

            Making eye contact, he saw that Siebold’s eyes were a murky storm.  “I know this is a rough day for you,” he soothed. 

            Abandoning the letter in his grip, he stood up, quickly leaving the office.  “As if ‘rough’ even _begins_ to describe how I’m feeling.” 

            Jean sighed, letting him storm off. 

            A few minutes later, he stood up, closing the door to his office. Alexis stood outside, Éve at her side.

            “Bad day?” She asked him, stopping her conversation with the new server. 

            Jean nodded, running a hand through his short brown hair.  “Isn’t it always?” 

            Alexis gave him a reassuring smile.  “Days like this aren’t going to be easy.  They may get better, but they’ll never be easy,” she told him.  “You just have to be patient,” she added.

            Jean shrugged. “I’m going to see him tonight. See if I can cheer him up any.” With that, he went to go wash his hands before returning to the line. 

            Éve looked up at Alexis. “Are Chef Lucien and Siebold–”

            “Married? Arceus, no,” Alexis jokingly finished, looking down at the sandy-blonde girl. 

            She shook her head, spraying her hair across her shoulders.  “Oh, no, I was going to say ‘dating’.”

            Alexis nodded. “Yeah, they are, somehow. For about…three years now? Whenever Seibold turned 17. Still getting used to that being the legal age here…they had been flirting for a while before that,” she said in an aside. 

            Ignoring the ongoing aside, Éve only peered around the corner, looking down the line of chefs. She stared at the sous-chef, not sure what to make of him. 

            “Anyways!” Alexis said, bringing herself back from whatever thought process. 

 

  

 

            Siebold sat on his couch, a damp towel draped over his shoulders.  Having just showered he felt much better.

            Rubbing the towel against his dripping hair, he turned on the television with his other hand. Flipping through the channels, he settled on the nightly news. 

            He hardly paid attention, allowing the mind-numbing information to become background noise. There was some special on about Kalos Independence Day, but he could have cared less. 

            He hated this day. He hated this day more than any other day of the year. 

            Hours later, a nock at the door disturbed him.  Hauling himself to his feet, he trudged over to the door. 

            Swinging the door open, Jean greeted him with a smile, and a grocery bag in his arm. 

            Siebold stepped aside, allowing the other man inside. 

            “I didn’t think you were coming over tonight,” Siebold commented, watching as Jean kicked off his shoes.

            Jean looked at him. “You know I wouldn’t leave you alone tonight.” He walked to the kitchen, leaving Siebold to finally turn on some lights in his home. 

            Everything had already been unpacked by the time he joined Jean in the kitchen.  “You didn’t have to do this,” he commented, looking over the small array of food items.  His stomach lurched at the sight of food, but he didn’t know if he had the heart to tell Jean.

            “Don’t be absurd. I’m happy to make us dinner.”

            Siebold kept his distance, observing the other man from the end of the counter.  He studied his body language, more inclined to focus on that than the smell of the food being prepared. 

            The meal soon came together, and even though it was one of Siebold’s personal favorites, it was a pain to eat.  He spent most of the meal washing it down with wine. 

            It wasn’t that the meal didn’t taste good.  From a critical standpoint, it tasted wonderful.  However, even his favorite wine tasted like garbage. 

            The clatter of silverware and plates distracted him from his thoughts.  Looking down, his plate had been removed from the table, but he was still holding onto his fork. 

            Picking up his wine glass, he walked into the kitchen, feeling the wine in his system. Placing the two items in the soapy water, he gripped the edge of the sink, trying to keep his balance.

            He felt Jean’s hand on his back, rubbing in a circular motion.  “I know that wasn’t my best work, but you should have gone easy on the wine,” he joked. 

            Siebold only grumbled something in response, keeping his firm grip on the sink. 

            “Come on,” Jean urged, gripping the man’s shoulder. 

            Turning to face Jean, Siebold just stared at him, his blue gaze downcast. 

            Jean kept a light grip on him, gently rubbing his arms.  “Anything I can do for you?”  He asked.

            Siebold didn’t respond, only tearing away from his grip.  He wanted to go to bed. 

            Watching as Siebold staggered into the living room, Jean ran after him, making sure he didn’t fall down the stairs.  Guiding him to his room, he sat Siebold on his bed. 

            “I’m going to clean up the kitchen. You stay here, okay?”

            The blond shrugged, looking to the side. 

            Jean placed a soft kiss to his forehead, and after he left, Siebold fell back on his bed. The wine was really beginning to sink in, almost giving him a feeling of vertigo. 

            He didn’t know how long he lied there before Jean returned.  He barely heard the shorter man’s soft footsteps enter his room.

            “Still awake?”

            “Yeah,” Siebold answered, sitting up. 

            He watched Jean remove his jacket.  Embarrassment washed over him as Jean started unbuttoning his shirt.  He looked away, resulting in laughter from his sous chef.

            “You’re adorable when you’re drunk,” he commented, continuing to unbutton his shirt. 

            Siebold gave him an indignant look.  “I’m not adorable. I’m manly as hell,” he objected. “Besides, I’m not drunk. I’m just tipsy,” he added. It was a lie.  He knew it was a lie.  He drank wine all the time, but it was rare that he ever drank in excess. So, whenever he did, he was quick to lie about it. 

            Jean stood in front of him, cupping the other man’s face.  He gave him a kiss that felt rough. 

            Siebold knew Jean didn’t have as much to drink as he did, so he figured his drunken mind was just exaggerating the feeling. 

            He let Jean push him back on the bed, waiting for him to start kissing his neck.  He wouldn’t dare say it aloud, but everything physical between them had fallen into a predictable routine, and he no longer enjoyed it.

            Jean would kiss him, he would return them with half the force.  Jean would pin him down, kiss his neck.  If he was lucky, he might get ten minutes of that.    

            However, he couldn’t tell Jean that.  The guilt ate away at him, but he couldn’t tell Jean.  He would lie back and go with the motions, allowing Jean to lead him.

            It didn’t matter that Jean was being rough.

            He kept telling himself it was an accident.  Jean was drunk. He wasn’t fully conscious of his actions. 

            The glow of fireworks over Lumiose City lit up his room.  He thought it was almost a perfect representation of how sex was supposed to feel. Though, as he settled in to a less than satisfying orgasm, Jean collapsing next to him, he felt whatever the hell was opposite of fireworks. 

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	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Three

 

**Friday, 14 July 2017. Late Afternoon. Jaune Plaza- Lumiose City.**

           

            “Hey, guys! Look who I brought!”

            The eldest brothers turned their attention from the waterway, facing Chili, and the girl with him.

            “Burgundy!” They greeted. 

            She smiled at them. “Bonsoir, boys,” she greeted, keeping a grip on her bag. 

            Squeezing against the railing, everyone but Burgundy turned their attention to the Prism Tower.

            Sifting through her bag, she pulled out three individually wrapped sandwiches.  “Here,” he offered, handing the first two to Cilan and Cress.

            They looked at the items, momentarily speechless.  Cilan finally took the two sandwiches, passing one to Cress. 

            “Thank you, Burgundy,” he said.

            She rolled her eyes. “If I told you once, I’ve told you _un million_ times: you don’t need to thank me.”  She handed Chili a sandwich then reached back into her bag, pulling out three bottles of water.

            They profusely thanked her, downing their meals. 

            She wasn’t one to speak freely about how she felt.  It did make her very happy to help them, though.  Even if her father completely disapproved of “feeding street rats”.

            Feeling eyes on her, she leaned back, looking at the boys’ pokémon.  She giggled, digging back into her bag.  She pulled out three pears, handing one to each pokémon.

            They each gave appreciative squeaks, sitting at their trainer’s feet to eat. 

            “Really, Burgundy. Thank you,” Chili said, looking down at the shorter girl. 

            She held his gaze for a moment before looking back to the tower.  A light flush tinted her cheeks.  “De rien,” she answered, shoving him slightly. 

            Chili was never good with French.  Out of the three brothers, he understood it the least.  The language usually annoyed him more than anything.  Except when Burgundy spoke it.  Even when she was taunting him in the language. There was just something nice about the way she spoke. 

            He shoved her back, waiting for her response. 

            Instead of shoving him back, she opted to lean against him, hoping Cress and Cilan wouldn’t notice.

            The brothers said nothing, but they did notice. 

            People passed by them in numbers heading for Centrico Plaza. 

            Leaning away from Chili, Burgundy looked to see where everyone was going.  She knew a bunch of activities were going on in Centrico Plaza, and she wanted join them. 

            Grabbing Chili’s sleeve, she stood on her toes, whispering, “ _Suis-moi_.”

            He didn’t quite understand what she said, but when she pulled on his sleeve, he figured he needed to follow her. 

            Cilan and Cress looked at the two as they began heading for the plaza, but made no motion to stop them.

            “They’re both so much alike,” Cilan commented, returning his gaze to his other brother.

            Cress nodded in agreement. “Well, they’re both hotheads, and hate you on occasion, so yes.  They’re perfect for one another.” 

            Cilan gave a defeated sigh, leaning on the railing.  “Sure, there is that.  However…”

            He spoke for a good while, comparing the two, and Cress didn’t dare interrupt him.  It was rare that Cilan spoke with such ease. Normally, he was a stuttering mess. Interrupting him now would only bring that back up. 

            Besides, he couldn’t argue with any of Cilan’s logic.  He completely agreed that Burgundy and Chili complemented one another very well.

           

 

 

            Laughter resounded around the two as they joined in on the activities going around Centrico Plaza.

            Chili found himself having the time of his life running around with Burgundy.  He felt like he was gaining back part of the childhood he never got to experience. 

            Though, he did feel bad since she had to pay for everything they did.  He felt like he was supposed to be the one paying for things, allowing her to have the time of her life. 

            She tried to assure him that she didn’t mind, but it still bothered him. 

            Standing at the street’s edge, watching as Burgundy laughed at the performer and his Diggersby, a weight settled in the pit of his stomach.  He couldn’t quite put the feeling into words. 

            _“What’s that word she uses…Merde, that’s it.”_

            _Merde_ : the only possible explanation for the feeling he was experiencing. The way her cheeks would turn rosy as she laughed, the way she would alternate between English in French while speaking, and the way she was now leaning into him, trying to contain her laughter, all made him feel incredibly dizzy.  He wanted to do nothing but smile at her, and give her what he could of the world. 

            But that in itself was the problem: he had nothing to offer her.  Nothing at all.  

            He hated it. He hated it more than anything.

            A street rat had nothing to offer somebody who was promised to own a successful business...

 

           

            Hours had passed by the time the fireworks were over.  Chili and Burgundy had returned to the waterway in time to view them with Cilan and Cress. Like every year, the display was wonderful, and left them all at a momentary ease. 

            Chili had taken it upon himself to walk Burgundy home.  Though, it was more tortuous than it should have been.  It always was. 

            He didn’t dare go within a single block of her home, else he risk getting seen by her parents.

            So, as always, the two stood at the corner of Hibernal Avenue and Rouge Plaza.  Burgundy, standing on the curb, now stood eye-level with his chin.

            “Well,” she began, “I suppose I’ve had _worse_ nights,” she teased.

            He rolled his eyes. “You enjoyed yourself,” he told her.

            She shrugged. “À peine.  I could have been faking everything.”  If there was one thing she enjoyed in life, it was teasing him. He made is so… _facile._  

            “Oh, yeah, I should have noticed by the way you were just…”  He paused if only for a second, realizing exactly how to retaliate. “The way you were just _rire-_ ing at that Diggersby.” 

            The second that butchered word tumbled out of his mouth, she looked absolutely mortified. She wanted to correct him. It practically _hurt_ how much she wanted to.  But she refused.  He was testing her, and she would not crack. 

            He continued. “Yeah, I think we both just needed a good _rire_ today _._ ”  Though, the way he was saying it, sounded more like “rear”, and she found herself having to bite her lip in order to not betray any emotion. 

            But the more he said “ _rire”_ in his most terrible Unovan accent, the more she was losing the ability to stay composed.

            Leaning in, he said, “You’re looking a little ‘bluh’ in the face there, Burgundy.” 

            Covering her mouth, she laughed.  “Are you _trying_ to make everyone in Lumiose aware that you’re not from here?”  She asked. “Oh, mon nounours, where do I even begin correcting this atrocity?  First off, you don’t add ‘i-n-g’ to _French_ words!  That’s an English thing!”

            She started rambling on, correcting his French, but he hardly paid attention.  He was stuck on the “mon nounours” bit.  He remembered that phrase.  She had called him that about a year ago.  The only reason he remembered was because Cilan had also overheard her, and she threatened to send him to an early grave if he ever told him what it meant. 

            He had forgotten about it, figuring it was one of her insults.  However, now, the way she had said it seemed far too gentle to be an insult. In fact, he was willing to bet it was even a term of endearment. 

            The thought made his face grow warm. 

            Amidst her chatter, she noticed he was staring blankly at her.  Her French lesson was probably going right over his head.  “Need me to slow down?”  She jokingly asked, crossing her arms. 

            It was a thought that had persisted the whole evening.  “You’re so adorable.”  He hadn’t meant to let it slip, but he figured he might as well run with it now.

            She mentally stumbled. That was the last thing she had expected out of his mouth. 

            Her face gained a considerable amount of color, and she fought for a response. 

            Seeing that he had only succeeded in making things awkward, Chili took a step back.  “I should probably get going,” he mumbled, looking away.

            Looking at the scruffy boy in front of her, she reached her hand out to stop him from leaving. Once she had his attention, she began. “Chili, I know you only see yourself as a street rat, and maybe that’s what you are _now_ , but you can be _so much more_. Alors, maybe it means nothing coming from me, but I just…I just _know!”_

            Part of him was angry. He wanted to rip his arm away from her and just run.  Run far away from her and her lies.  He had been a street rat for years at this point, and he didn’t believe it was something that would ever change.  What did she know?

            However, the other half of him was desperate to believe her.  He wanted to be so much more.  If anything else, just to be able to give her _something._

            Seeing that he wasn’t going to say anything, she continued.  “Look…I just, I-I care for you a lot, okay?  What can _I_ do to help you get out of this?”

            He looked away again. “I can’t put that on you, Burgundy.”

            “I’m offering!” She let go of his arm, finally. “I know you have your old Unovan Trainer’s License, but you don’t have a Kalosian one.  Do you need me to pay your fee?” 

            Panic surged throughout him. “No!  I can’t have you do that!”  He hated the thought of putting financial pressure on her. 

            “Again, I’m offering, Chili! If you need me to do that, I’m more than willing to!”

            “No!  Burgundy, that’s not an option!” 

            “Then what is?” She begged.  He had never heard her pleading voice.  He hated it.  Her voice wasn’t meant to hold such despair. 

            She crossed her arms again. “I just…I just want my parents to see what I see,” she grumbled. 

            He gave her a questioning look.

            She muttered a few French obscenities.  “Look, I want you in my life…I like whatever it is we have.”  She mumbled a few more obscenities mixed in with “I can’t believe you’re making me say it.” 

            Looking him in the eye, she said, “I like you.  A lot. More than I could ever hope to describe in either English or French.  I know that you can be so much more than just a street rat, but that’s not what my parents see.  They only see you and your brothers as pests, and the only way they’ll change their mind is if you get off the streets and do something with your life.” 

            He didn’t quite know what to make of her words.  There was so much to take in, and so much to say, but he wasn’t sure to how organize it all.

            Instead of putting it into words, he figured he could at least put some of what he felt into action.

            Standing directly in front of her, he tried to gather enough of his courage to kiss her. But, once again, that itself was a problem.  He had never kissed anybody before, and he didn’t want to screw it up.  Because what if he screwed up so bad, she ended up realizing that he was just that loser street rat that she fed out of pity every once in a while, and had much better things to be doing in life?

            Knowing that he wasn’t going to take the initiative, she whispered, “Come here,” before leaning up to kiss him.

            Maybe it wasn’t perfect. Maybe he had caught too much of her upper lip.  But he couldn’t even begin to describe the feeling of it actually happening.  It was just a feeling of “ _finally_ ” enveloping him. 

            When she pulled away from him, he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close.  She gave a small laugh, while he merely stared at the empty street in front of him, processing what just happened. 

            “Just consider my offer… _s’il te plaît_?”

            He let go of her, knowing he was about to hate himself for what he was going to say. “I’m sorry, Burgundy…this is something I have to figure out on my own.” 

            She didn’t make any motion to stop him as he left.

            Leaning against the lamppost, she slid down until she was sitting on the curb, watching him walk out of sight.  Her clenched fists started trembling, but she couldn’t tell if she was angry or upset.

            Looking to the stars, she gave an angry sigh.  “Oh, Xerneas, you love testing my patience don’t you…”

           

 

            For the second time that night, Chili found himself asking the question, “ _What was that word again?”_ only to remember the word seconds later.

            “Merde,” he spat.

 

 

**Saturday, 15 July 2017.  Early Morning. 75010 Vernal Avenue, Lumiose City.**

The early morning rays peeking through the window woke Siebold.

            Rolling onto his side, the clock on his nightstand only read 6:00am.  Sighing, he rolled onto his back again. 

            The subtle breaths from his partner caught his attention.  Jean was still asleep next to him, hogging most of the space in the bed.

            Forcing himself up, Siebold was sure to make a silent exit.  He felt groggy and sore, and had to hold onto the banister to make sure he didn’t tumble down the stairs. 

            Once in the kitchen, he began to prepare some coffee. 

            Rubbing the muscles along his lower back, he tried to relieve some of the pain.  Jean had been far too greedy and careless.

            The warm smell of coffee began to fill the house.  Grabbing some cream from the fridge and a cup from the cupboard, he waited for the coffee maker to finish. 

            Once he had his coffee prepared, he headed towards the living room, stepping out onto the patio.

            The patio furniture was covered in a layer of who-knows-what, giving him an indication of how long it had been since he had actually been out there.  Deciding that he didn’t care, he sat down on the couch, adjusting himself a few times before he was finally comfortable. 

            The patio didn’t have much of a view.  Only a straight shot down an alley that led out to a florist’s shop. 

            When he first moved into the home, he had bought some flowers from there, putting them in a small cedar planter.  They had died shortly after, due to lack of care, and still remained in a pile of shriveled leaves.

            The noise of the city, and gentle rising of the sun slowly began to wake him up. 

            He didn’t have to go into work until 5:00pm, and though he had hours to spare, he felt a deep-seated dread in his stomach.  He wished he had the liberty of not showing up.  He was even half tempted to just beg Jean to go in for him. 

            Though, in begging Jean to do that, the definition of “beg” would get taken in the sexual context, and he knew he didn’t have the stamina for anything.  And if he didn’t do it then, he would owe him later.

            Finishing the last sip of his coffee, he realized he couldn’t tell what was the worse option.

 

 

**Tuesday, 25 July 2017.  Noon. Jaune Plaza Alleyways - Lumiose City.**

            The summer heat was upon them, and it was the worst anyone in their group could ever recall. The entire city was suffering. There was no reprieve from the heat even in the shade.  The waterways, and the river surrounding the city were slowly drying up.  The lines for the homeless shelters were terrible, making it impossible for them to even try getting a place to stay. 

            Panpour had exhausted himself, trying to keep their group cool.  Eventually, they all told him to stop, or else he would hurt himself. 

            Stored away in their poké balls, they were at least thankful for their pokémon’s ability to stay safe in this ungodly weather. 

            Sitting at one of the park’s fountains, the boys were stripped down as much as possible, without being charged with public indecency. 

            Chili and Cilan hadn’t eaten since yesterday, and Cress hadn’t since yesterday night. As the heat continued to get worse, he found himself lying, making sure he was at least feeding his brothers before himself. 

            Staring at the water, feeling his vision fading in and out, he didn’t know how much longer he could keep that up. 

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	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Four

**Friday, 28 July 2017. Morning.  Lumiose City.**

            Not even a minute into his walk, Siebold already found himself sweating.  It had been that way for weeks now, and it popped up out of nowhere.  Summers in Kalos were typically mild, but this year they were setting record highs every day.

            The thought of cold weather was inviting.  For him, it was easier to stay warm.  In the heat, there were only so many clothes he could take off before getting charged with public indecency. 

            However, with weather extremes like this, he worried that winter would be just as bad.

            The only good thing that had come out of the heat was that the restaurant was crowded every evening and night.  Cold desserts were ordered left and right, and they were rivaling the dinner orders. He wasn’t complaining too much about that, at least. 

            Though, it was putting a ton of stress on his pâtissier. If the trend continued, he figured he might need to look for another one. 

 

 

 

 

**Tuesday, 15 August 2017.  Noon. Jaune Plaza Alleyways - Lumiose City.**

            Chili held both his brothers’ hands tightly.  His knuckles were white, and the other two were losing feelings in their hands. They couldn’t blame him, though.

            Sitting a few blocks down the avenue, they could only look on in horror, watching as the paramedics carted off one of the people in their group.  Police tape was blocking off the alleyways, and a few arrests had been made, under the charge of trespassing. 

            While they hoped that the few that were arrested would at least get decent treatment in prison, Chili was devastated in the case of their other friend.  Esmé had died over night. 

            Starvation combined with the heat was picking off their group one by one.   

            The brothers were terrified that one of them would be next.  Cilan and Chili had caught on to Cress pretending he had eaten.  Once people died, they refused to let him continue that.

            “We need to leave,” Cress spoke, standing up. 

            Chili wrapped his arms around himself, refusing to budge.  “W-we can’t just leave, Cress.  Esmé died! He-he fucking died! Does that mean _nothing_ to you?”  He spat, not caring if he caused a scene. 

            Cress put his hands up, trying to gesture him to keep quiet.  “He was my friend, too!  But we can’t stay here!” 

            Seeing that Chili was about to pick a fight, Cilan stood up to put himself between them. “H-he’s right, Chili. We ca- we can-,” he paused, frustrated he couldn’t get the words out, “ _We can’t,_ ” he finally managed, “stay here.  With the police all-all over the Jaune Alleyways, we just – we just can’t. They’ll get us, too,” he reasoned.

            It was rare that the police ever did anything about the homeless population.  Usually, it took acts of violence to get them to even look their way.  But with the heat, everyone was growing frustrated, and the police were just looking for easy targets at this point. 

            Cress nodded in agreement. He wanted to mourn the loss of Esmé as much as everyone else, but for now, they needed to leave. Though, finding a new, safe, place was far easier said than done. 

            Knowing that the Northern Boulevard would be impossible, the brothers reluctantly headed for the Southern Boulevard.  There were a couple of bridges they could choose from at least. 

            While walking in the sweltering heat, Cress felt himself falling behind. 

            He couldn’t go a day without wanting to faint.  He was growing sick of living like this.  Looking around, he saw hundred of opportunities to get himself arrested. At least then he might have some reprieve from the heat.  Anything was better than the life he was living. 

            Crossing the bridge, he stopped to look at the edge.  This part of the canal had dried up, leaving nothing but stone below him. The drop would be a steep one. Maybe even enough to kill him.

            Gripping the hot railing with both hands, he leaned over. 

            All it would take was one quick jump.  “And it would all be over,” he mumbled to himself. 

            Cilan was the first to notice Cress’s absence.  Looking back, he saw his brother leaning on the railing, a hollow look in his eyes.

            He stopped Chili, and once the youngest brother saw it too, they hurried back to him.

            A hand on both his shoulders brought him out of his downward spiral. 

            “Cress?” Chili whimpered.

            “Sorry,” Cress spoke, tearing his gaze away from the waterway.  “I was distracted, is all.”

            Nobody said a word as they continued walking. 

 

 

 

            The sun had fallen below the horizon, giving the bothers a small break from the heat.

            Sitting on a bench, the boys gave themselves a moment to catch their breath.  Chili had stopped shaking hours ago, but now that they weren’t so focused on moving, everything had sunk back in. 

            Cress pushed himself forward, trying to gather enough strength to tell his bothers to get moving. However, he noticed that Cilan looked very distracted.  “Cilan?” He asked. 

            The middle brother stood without a word and walked away.  “It couldn’t be,” was the last thing his brothers heard him say. 

            Cress and Chili looked to one another, and silently agreed on following him.  Letting Cilan get himself into trouble was the last thing they wanted. 

            Cilan felt his heart begin to race with his growing anxiety.  He knew what he saw.  He knew it wasn’t a delusion brought about by the relentless heat.  It was a Fraxure with apples on its tusks.  It had to be. 

            Though it strained him, he caught up enough to where the dragon was within sight. 

            Fraxure was walking down the street, its pace having slowed considerably. 

            “F-“ Cilan hesitated. He was desperate to call out to it, but he was scared it might not be the Fraxure he was hoping it was. The person he hoped it belonged to left their group a long time ago, and he hadn’t heard from her since.

            However, he just couldn’t shake the image of her Axew holding apples on its tusks.  It was the little dragon’s trademark. 

            “Fraxure!” He called, chasing after the dragon.

            Fraxure looked up at the tall man now chasing after him.  He readied himself to run, but as the person drew closer, he realized how familiar he was. 

            Fraxure made little calls as Cilan drew closer.  Grabbing one of the four apples on his tusks, he offered it to him. 

            Seeing the apple being offered to him assured Cilan of his suspicions. 

            Cilan heard his brothers calling for him, their footsteps echoing down the street. 

            Fraxure was even more excited to see the brothers, and offered them apples as well. 

            Cress and Chili cradled the apples, not sure what to make of the situation. 

            “Cilan, whose Fraxure is this?”

            He looked to them, an essence of hope they hadn’t seen in a long time.  “I think he belongs to Iris!” 

            As if on cue, a short, dark-skinned girl turned the corner of one of the buildings.  “Incisache! Oú est-tu?”

            She looked up from her dragon to the boys surrounding her pokémon.  Her maroon eyes went wide.  “Cilan?” She said in a breath, focusing on the middle brother. 

            The apple dropped out of his hands, Fraxure picking it up for him. 

            “Iris…” he mumbled.

            She broke out in a smile, running up to the boys.  “Cilan! Cress!  Chili!”  She began rattling off in French, not realizing she was doing so until she caught Chili’s confused stare. 

            Shaking her head, she restarted, this time in English.  “I haven’t seen you three in so long!  How’ve you been?” 

            Cilan couldn’t speak. There was so much he wanted to say to her, but he couldn’t force himself to get anything out. The emotional situation combined with his already high emotions eventually caused him to pass out.

            When he woke up, all he could hear were the sounds of cars, and people were surrounding him.

            “About time you woke up.” He recognized Iris’s voice immediately.

            Looking to his right, he saw Iris sitting a few feet away from him, splitting an apple with Fraxure.

            Sitting up on the back of his arms, he got a better look around him.  From what he could tell, they were under a bridge.  The bricks had the faintest blue tint to them, telling him they were somewhere along the southern boulevard. 

            “Where are we?” He asked. 

            She didn’t answer his question, shoving half of an apple in his face.  “Eat,” she instructed. 

            He sat up and watched as she turned around on the sandy brick. 

            She waited for him to finish his apple half before answering his question.  “Southern Boulevard.  One of the bridges.  Near La Seine.”

            Her focus wasn’t entirely on him.  He noticed that she seemed to keep an eye on everyone.  Fraxure was busy delivering pieces of food to people once he had finished his.

            Even though it was still horrendously hot outside, everyone seemed to be in rather good spirits.

            “Where have you been all this time?”  He asked.

            She shrugged. “Around, I suppose. Had to lay low after the incident two years ago, you know?”

            He felt a twinge of sympathy pain remembering the events that led up to her leaving. She had been caught by a street vendor stealing some of their produce.  The police had been called, and she narrowly avoided getting caught by the police Herdier.  A strain of bad luck involving the police led to her decision to leave. 

            Cilan didn’t like to think about that day, because she was one of his closest friends, and he hated to see her leave.  Especially since he failed to convince her not to. 

            At least he could now rest knowing she was safe, and back within reach.  

            “I finally decided to come back to Lumiose, but I didn’t know if I could even find you three. So, I found this group, and I’ve been with them for a few months now,” she explained. 

            “I heard you call Fraxure ‘Incisache’?” 

            She nodded. “A lot of the group only speaks French, so I’ve just gotten used to calling him by his French name.”

            “Chili’s not going to be happy about that,” he mumbled. 

            She giggled. “He still sucks at French, huh?”

            He nodded. “He refuses to learn.”

            She remained silent while she studied his features.  He hadn’t changed too much over the past two years, but there was something different about him.  “You know,” she began, readjusting how she was sitting, “I kinda figured you and your brothers would have gotten off the streets by the time I ever saw you again.”

            His shoulders slumped. “I had hoped the same, to be honest. I had hoped to stockpile enough savings to get at least one of us a Kalosian Trainer’s License, but this weather has been eating at that.” 

            “The world would be a much better place if those were free, huh?”

            Cilan nodded. “Or at least relatively low in cost like in Unova…”

            Cress and Chili watched the two from a distance, barely catching any of their conversation.

            Cress didn’t need to hear it, though. He could see the change in Cilan. “Have you ever noticed how Cilan doesn’t stutter around Iris?  How he’s never struggled with his stuttering around her?” 

            Chili flopped down on his back, focusing on the concrete overpass above them.  “You think it would be the opposite,” he said as Pansear curled up next to him. 

            Thanks to Iris and Fraxure, the brothers had a full stomach that night.  Cress couldn’t even express his gratitude for that.

            Even though their morning had been tragic, Iris had brought them a small ray of hope.

 

 

 

 

**Wednesday, 16 August 2017.  Morning. 75010 Vernal Avenue, Lumiose City.**

            Siebold wasn’t one for the morning news.  To him, it was nothing but terrible puns and recycled stories.  It was usually Jean who was into watching the morning news. Though, sometimes, he did put in on just for background noise, or for when he knew his restaurant would be on. Even then, it rarely struck his fancy.

            Today, however, he hung on their every word.  As much as he could, anyways. 

            The news anchor was going on about the homeless population in the city.  A man had died in the Jaune Alleyways last night.  A bunch of minors had also been found in the alleyway, and they proceeded to talk about how the homeless youth population had gone up.

            Something about that made him feel sick.  Surely there was something he could do. 

            Standing up from his couch, he headed off to the kitchen in search of a pen and paper. Digging around, he sufficed for a permanent marker and paper.  Going upstairs, he sat at his desk, and looked around a few relator websites.

            Grabbing his phone, he also sent Jean a quick message. 

            “How would you feel about running a benefit the next few weeks?” 

            Moments later, he received a reply. 

            _“What kind?”_

            “Apparently, the homeless child population is getting bad.  I’m thinking of holding a benefit to where half our proceeds go to charity?”

            He almost expected Jean to refute the idea.  Or to at least try to talk him down to less than twenty-five percent.   

            _“Sounds like it would be good for publicity.  I’m all for it.”_

            He felt at ease knowing Jean was on board with this plan. His other plan, however, he knew Jean would be against. So, he figured what Jean didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. 

            He had no use for his father’s old mansion anyways, and he hadn’t been there in over a year. He might as well sell it.

            Jean wouldn’t be happy. “I’ll burn that bridge when I get to it, I suppose,” he mumbled to himself. 

            It would be awhile before he could sell the place.  After all, he wasn’t going to just give it away.  If he was going to look at donating what he got for the mansion, he would need to make a profit of some sort. 

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	6. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

 

**Saturday, 19 August 2017. Nighttime.  Southern Boulevard Bridge - Lumiose City.**

If there was one thing Cress hated, it was the cold. Ever since he was little, he hated it. At the first sign of a fall wind, he would beg his parents to put a space heater in his room. Years ago, when living in the care of their distant relatives, he would always pile on blankets, comforters, and quilts. 

            Now, every time the weather threatened to go into the negatives, he would silently curse himself for every warm day he had taken for granted. 

            However, at least in the past, he had time to prepare for the cold.  This year, the weather gave no grace period. 

            A storm had rolled through the region, bringing with it subzero temperatures.  All of Lumiose was covered in thick sheets of ice, brought about by a flash-freeze. 

            The temperature was -6 Celsius and would only get up to 0 by midday.  With more freezing rain on the way, the brothers and Iris had no choice but to try to squeeze into a shelter. 

            On nights like this, all the shelters in the city were running on full capacity, and it stressed Cress out. 

            In general, shelters stressed Cress out.

            After getting checked into the shelter, the first thing everyone was forced to do was shower. And even though warm water felt great, standing in the presence of roughly thirty other people at a time made the experience less than enjoyable. 

            On normal nights, they would have been able to fill out a clothing request form.  Tonight, however, they were lucky to have showered, and have a small space to sleep. 

            It was terrible sleeping conditions as far as anyone else was concerned.  Cress was right up against some other homeless man, and his brothers.  The air was hot and humid from everyone’s breath. 

            Despite that, Cress fell into a deep sleep for the first time in months. 

 

 

 

**Thursday, 7 September 2017. Morning.  Southern Boulevard Bridge - Lumiose City.**

            A bitter wind billowed through the waterway, forcing everyone to huddle closer to one another.

            The three brothers stood around one another, the air around them tense. 

            Chili kept his fiery gaze on his oldest brother.  “It’s you’re fault we’re all starving!  You’re not going to convince anyone for a handout!  Hitting and running is the best option, but you can’t even do that!”

            Cress tried to keep a level head about him.  Fueling Chili’s fire would do nothing for the situation.  “I think you need to calm down,” he stated. 

            The redheaded brother rolled his eyes.  “I think you need to get a reality check!” 

            Cilan stepped in the middle of them.  “Chili, Cress, let-let’s not–“

            Chili shoved him back. “Shut up, Cilan!”

            This flared up Cress’s anger. He knew they were both hungry. It had been almost two days since they had anything to eat, but fighting wouldn’t solve anything.

            “Look,” Chili continued, pointing a finger in Cress’s face.  “Get your shit together, Cress!  We’re all going to starve to death if you don’t!” 

            Cress puffed his chest out, finally taking Chili’s bait.  “Stealing takes no skill and can be done by anyone.  It’s because of your piss-poor abilities that’s we’re starving!”

            The youngest brother took this as a challenge.  “Stay here,” he grumbled at Cilan, grabbing his other bother’s sleeve. 

            Cilan mumbled something about Iris, but it was lost on Chili and Cress.  Chili was already on his way, dragging his brother across the city, their pokémon following close behind. 

            He’d find them some place to steal from.  Whether it was from a person who stupidly placed their groceries on the ground, or a vendor that dared to be out in the cold. 

            They hurried their way through the crowd of morning commuters, Chili keeping an eye out for anything.

            Cress partially hoped that they would find nothing, and the walk would calm Chili down. He hated wasting energy like this, but he refused to back down now.  He couldn’t prove Chili right. 

            Once they reached one of the larger avenues, Chili brought them to the back alleyways. Many restaurants were along the avenue, and, like he had hoped, one of them had a delivery truck parked out back.

            Taking cover behind a dumpster, they made sure the truck was unguarded. 

            “That truck. Steal from that truck if you think it’s so easy,” Chili challenged.  He thrust his side bag into his brother’s hands, indicating that he was completely serious about this. 

            Cress looked to his pokémon, then back to his brother.  “Fine. I’ll be right back.”

            He waited for the truck’s driver to grab a few things and take them inside.  He figured he had about a five minute window to grab whatever he could. 

            With the driver back in the restaurant, he ran for the truck.  Slowing as he passed the back entrance, he did a quick check to make sure nobody was coming.

            Hauling themselves into the back of the truck they grabbed for items, stuffing them into the bag. The array of food before him caused an audible growl from his stomach, and it was making him lightheaded.

            Going for the crate of apples, he pocketed the fruit. 

            “You have two seconds to run.” The commanding voice sent a violent chill up his spine. 

            Turning around, a tall blond man stood in front of the truck, giving him a menacing glare.

            Panpour hopped onto his shoulder, ready to attack the man if necessary. 

            “Water Gun!” Cress nervously ordered.

            The man sidestepped the weak attack, and grabbed the boy by the collar as he jumped out of the truck.

            “Cress!” Chili yelled from down the alley. He and Pansear tried to run to his rescue, but the restaurant’s owner was far ahead of them.

            Reaching into his pocket, the blond man pulled out a poké ball, sending out a large Barbaracle.

            The pokémon gave a deep, hollow call, smacking away the fire pokémon.  He then looked to the Pansear’s trainer, baring his huge claws at the boy.

            The redhead looked at his brother, who was still fighting in the man’s grasp.  Terrified tears filled his eyes.  “I’m sorry, Cress!”  He yelled, scooping up Pansear, and running away. 

            Once that was taken care of, Siebold looked to the boy still in his grasp.  “You’re coming with me,” he growled, dragging the boy into his restaurant. 

            As he dragged the boy to his office, the staff on duty looked on.  All, except Jean, felt some sympathy for him.  They all knew how aggressive Siebold could get when it came to people trying to steal from him. 

            Siebold slammed the door to his office, and slammed the boy against his desk.  Barbaracle flanked him, adding to his terrifying demeanor.

            “Just who do you think you are, stealing from _my_ restaurant?” The man snarled.

            Clutching to Panpour, Cress hardly noticed that he was almost choking the poor pokémon. His whole body wracked with tremors, and he couldn’t speak. 

            “Stealing from Apple of The Earth, are you insane?”

            The restaurants name clicked in Cress’s mind.  This man wasn’t just any man.  He was Siebold Narcisse, the youngest and best chef in Kalos.  “I-I’m sorry!”  He spat out.

            Siebold and Barbaracle stepped closer to the cowering boy.  “No you’re not!  You’re just a thief!”

            Panpour squeaked as Cress held him closer.  “Don’t hurt us, please!” He cried. 

            Looking over the boy, Siebold then turned to his own pokémon.  The large beast combined with his own intimidating demeanor was getting them nowhere. 

            Sighing, he recalled Barbaracle, and forced himself to soften his tone.  “Just tell me why,” he spoke. 

            “I’m starving…I’m freezing,” Cress answered. 

            “Where are your parents?” Siebold asked.

            Cress relaxed his grip. “Dead,” he answered.

            This tugged at Siebold’s sympathy.  He knew that it could very well be a lie, but there was a sincerity in the boy’s tone that led him to think otherwise.  “Do you have a home?” He asked. 

            “No.  My brothers and I are homeless.” 

            Another heavy sigh passed the chef’s lips.  His mind immediately went back to the news report from the other week.

            “ _One in every ten youth under the age of 17 is homeless here in Lumiose City…”_

            If word got out he threw out a homeless child, all his charity efforts would look like a complete publicity stunt. 

            He stroked his chin, thinking of what to say.  “How many brothers?” He asked. 

            “Two. We’re triplets, and I’m the oldest.” Panpour nodded, trying to confirm his words.

            Siebold’s expression softened. “And you’re just trying to look after them, aren’t you?”  He asked, receiving a nod from Cress. 

            Kneeling down, he saw the boy flinch.  “I’m not going to punish you.  Calm down,” he spoke as gently as possible.  Looking over the boy, he noticed how scrawny his features were.  His cheeks were sunken in, and both him and his pokémon’s eyes just seemed dull.  Now he really couldn’t bring himself to just throw them out. 

            Cress peeked up at him. “You’re not?”  He asked.    

            Siebold shook his head. “No.  I think punishing you will only make things worse.” He sat down, trying to display that his anger had been absolved.  “You’re already starving.  I wouldn’t be able to sleep at night knowing I let you starve.” 

            He grabbed for the bag he had taken off Cress.  Reaching into it, he pulled out two of the apples, tossing them to the boy. 

            He caught one of them, Panpour grabbing for the other.  They looked at the man, as if asking for permission to eat the fruit.

            “Eat,” he said.  

            Panpour eagerly bit into the fruit, making quick work of it.  Cress was more cautious. 

            “What’s your name, kid?” Siebold asked, leaning against the office door. 

            Swallowing his bite of apple, he answered, “Cress.” 

            Siebold looked back into the bag.  “Well, Cress, I’m impressed by your choice of food.  They’re all items that complement one another.  Was that pure luck, or was that on purpose?” 

            Cress nodded. “Y-yes.  On purpose, that is.  My parents loved to cook.  While they were alive, I tried to learn everything I could.” 

            Silence passed them, and Siebold patiently waited for the two to finish their fruit. By the time he was finished thinking a few things over, they were done. 

            “Well,” he said, standing up, “I need to get back to work, but, first, come with me.”

            He kept Cress’s bag in his hand, and led the boy back out to the delivery truck.  Packing it with more foods, he then handed it back to the boy. “Now, take this to your brothers, and don’t you _ever_ steal from my trucks again.” 

            The boy’s eyes lit up, and he profusely thanked Siebold before running off. 

            Siebold shook his head, chuckling to himself.  Walking back into the restaurant, he was met by Jean.  A scowl was etched into his features. 

            “Why would you just _give_ him some of our produce?” He asked, livid.

            Siebold pushed past him. “He and his brothers are starving. I couldn’t just let them _die._ ”  He reasoned.

            Jean chased after him. Grabbing the taller man’s shoulder, he whipped him around.  “That’s a cute little lie.  He fooled you, Siebold!” 

            Siebold avoided his gaze. “Jean, I can sleep better at night knowing I helped him.”  Meeting his gaze, he snarled.  “ _Stop lecturing me!”_  

            Jean backed up, offended. “Calm down, Siebold. You don’t have to yell at me like this! It’s not my fault you’re a naïve idiot!” He stormed off, causing a fuss throughout the whole kitchen. 

            Everyone on staff momentarily stared at the chef, stopping what they were doing.  It was dead silent throughout the entire kitchen. Only the sound of sizzling food dared to break the silence. 

            “What are you all standing around for?  _Get back to work!_ ”  He snarled, his voice echoing thought the kitchen. 

            A resounding clatter of kitchen utensils sounded as the staff hurried to appear busy.

            Siebold retreated into his office, needing to collect himself for a moment before returning to the kitchen.

            He thought he did the right thing.  Surly nobody attempting to scam him would go through everything the boy just had.

            At the very least, he could sleep at night with the decision he made.  Jean might be pissed at him, but he would get over it.

            The worst that would happen would be that Siebold would have to rethink the next week’s specials. Even then, he hadn’t given away nearly enough produce to do that. 

            “Happy birthday, father. I fed a homeless kid, and Jean’s pissed at me.  I hope you’re proud of my life choices.” 

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	7. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

 

**Thursday, 7 September 2017.  Noon. Southern Boulevard Bridge – Lumiose City**

 

 

            The air was tense all throughout the waterway.  Chili had returned only moments earlier, out of breath, desperately trying to explain what happened to Cress. 

            “Slow down! Breathe, then tell us what happened!” Cilan said. 

            At any other moment, Chili surly would have thought that was the most ironic thing he had ever heard.

            Taking a breath, he quickly gathered himself.  “We were stealing from a-a food truck, but Cress got caught!”  He held up Pansear.  “We tried to save him, but the guy had a really strong pokémon and we had to run away!”

            Murmurs passed through the group, nobody knowing what to do. 

            Cilan’s face paled, and he stumbled back. 

            Iris grabbed the taller man, helping him keep his footing.  Once he was steady, she looked to Chili.  However, she had to hold her tongue.  She had been in situations similar to this, and they all had the same outcome: jail time.  Telling the two brothers this would only lead to more trouble. 

            Though, she had a feeling that Cilan already knew this. 

            “W-we have to do something!” Chili yelled. 

            Iris stepped forward. “Rushing into this won’t help anyone, Chili,” she said cautiously. 

            “Please, like you even care!” Chili spat. 

            She refused to back down. “Rushing into things won’t help anyone! Look, Pansear is injured, and we’ll need every hand –and paw– to get Cress back.  Besides, Cress isn’t a child.  He can take care of himself.” 

            He opened his mouth to fight back, but Cilan stepped forward and cut him off.  “She’s right, Chili.” 

            Admitting defeat, he fell back against the wall, wrapping his arms defensively around his pokémon. He wanted to cry out of pure frustration, but they were right: there was nothing they could do at this point.

            “Where were you two, anyways?” Iris asked, leaning down in front of him. 

            Chili searched his memory. He had been so angry going there, and terrified leaving, he could barely remember.  “Somewhere on the southern boulevard.  I think towards Vert Plaza.  The bricks were kinda green, so yeah…” 

            Cilan’s breath hitched, drawing everyone’s attention.  With everyone’s eyes suddenly on him, he found it impossible to speak.

            Knowing he had something important to say, Iris stepped in front of him, putting his focus on her. “What’s wrong, Cilan?” She gently asked.

            It took him a few tries, but he finally managed to say, “The only restaurant on Vert Plaza is Apple of The Earth: the most famous restaurant in the entire region. Everything else is just a café.”

            Chili felt his heart skip a beat.  Burying his hand in his hair, he ripped at the strands.  “He’s going to get arrested, and it’s all my fault!” 

            His brother crouched beside him.  “No! We’ll-We’ll figure this out! Cress is going to be just fine!”

            “We can take Pansear to the Pokémon Center and get him healed.  I don’t think we’ll need trainer cards for that,” Iris suggested.

            Hauling himself to his feet, Chili nodded.  “Then we’ll go back to that place.  I think there’s a Pokémon Center close to Vert Plaza.” 

            “We’ll stay here in case he somehow makes it back,” one of the men in their group volunteered.

            The three nodded, and headed off for the Pokémon Center. 

           

 

 

            Cilan never endorsed lying. He hated tricking people, and even hearing another person lie usually made his skin crawl. 

            However, today, he was thankful for Iris’s ability for obscuring the truth.  Cress was good at it, but he had nothing on her.

            She had come up with the perfect sob story for the Pokémon Center’s nurse, easily evading the fact that not a single one of them had a Kalos trainer’s card.  She even managed to get the nurse to take back Pansage and Fraxure.

            Sitting by the center’s windows, they waited for their pokémon to be returned to them.

            Chili was impatiently tapping his foot, and Cilan kept staring out the window.  The building was a nice reprieve from the cold, but he wished it had been under better circumstances. 

            Trainers came in and out of the building, filling the three with a sense of envy.

            Legally, all three of them could apply for a trainer’s card.  With that, they would be able to stay at any Pokémon Center across the region for free, and even receive a cheap meal.  However, the fee they would need to pay in order to get the card wasn’t cheap, and Cilan knew it would take months upon months to stockpile the money they needed.

            It didn’t help that since they were all seventeen, they no longer qualified for any assistance programs. Even when they did qualify, they needed a legal guardian to sign for things. 

            Life was never truly in their favor. 

            A number flashed over a few of the center’s monitors, telling the group that their pokémon had been healed.

            As they stood to head to the counter, Cilan noticed something out of the corner of his eye: blue hair.

            Doing a double take, he saw Cress pass the center with Panpour perched on his shoulder.

            “Cress,” he said in a breath.

            Chili had just barely heard him, running back to his brother.  Sure enough, their oldest brother was strolling down the street, acting as if nothing had happened.  He even had the bag of food that he was stealing. 

            “I’ll go grab our pokémon. You two go after him!” Iris directed.

            Without any further instruction, the two took off.  Pushing through people, they hurried to catch up to him. 

            “Cress!” The two brothers shouted. 

            Hearing his name, the eldest brother turned around.  The two running at him were the last people the expected to see.  “Cilan!  Chili!”

            Chili tackled his brother with a tight embrace, nearly knocking Panpour off his shoulder. “I thought you were a goner!”

            Their reunion caused a mild disturbance around them.  People had to shuffle out of the way, laughing lightly at the scene.

            Cress laughed. “No!  Everything turned out wonderful, actually!” He said as Chili finally let go of him. Looking between his brothers, he moved his back to his front.  “See! The restaurant owner was really nice after he calmed down!”  He stopped, watching as Iris hurried towards the trio. 

            Two poké balls in hand, she was winded by the time she reached them.  “You have so much explaining to do!”  She told him, handing the brothers their pokémon.

            He nodded in response. “Oh, it’s quite the tale, I assure you!” Cress promised.

            One the way back, he explained to them exactly what happened.  At first, they were doubtful that it was actually the owner of Apple of The Earth he ran into.  However, Cress worked to prove to them that it was. 

            They found it hard to believe that the man had ended up being so generous.  Though, they wouldn’t argue with the surplus of food now in their possession. 

            He was still sore from Siebold tossing him against his desk, but he figured it was hardly a price to pay for everyone having a full stomach that night. 

 .

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	8. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

 

**Tuesday, 26 September 2017. Noon.  Hibernal Avenue.**

            “Papa!  No!” Burgundy chased after her father, but it was too late.  He was already in hot pursuit of Cress. 

            Walking back into the store, she prayed that Cress could outrun her father. 

            “He had a head start,” she told herself. Seeing that the bakery was empty, she let out a slew of French curse words.  He had only been walking by.  The brothers hadn’t even stopped by in weeks.  It wasn’t fair. 

 

 

            Walking down the avenue, Siebold thought he was going to enjoy his day off.  The weather was cooperating, and he and his pokémon had finished training early. It was looking to be a promising day.

            That was until he saw a blue-haired boy running in his direction. 

            Cress was pushing through the throng of people, trying desperately to get away from the man chasing after him.

            Sighing, he walked in the direction of him. He put his hand out to grab Cress, who had lost a considerable amount of momentum.  “Stay put,” he ordered. 

            It took Cress a few seconds to register who had grabbed ahold of him.  Seeing that it was, once again, Siebold, he was confused as to what to do.

            He wanted to continue running. For all he knew, Siebold might hand him over to the man, who would then call the police.  He didn’t want to risk getting thrown in jail, but he also didn’t want to face the wrath of Siebold’s Barbaracle once again.

            “Give me that rotten boy!  He owes me money!”  The other man huffed, finally catching up. 

            Siebold kept a calm air about him, hardly paying any attention as Cress hid behind him.  “How much does he owe you?”  He casually asked. 

            Burgundy’s father glared at him. “Between him and his rotten brothers? At least €1,000!”

            Sighing once more, Siebold released his grip on Cress, and reached into his bag.  They were causing quite a stir, and he wanted this encounter to be over with as soon as possible. 

            Pulling out his checkbook, he wrote a check for €1,000, no problem.  Ripping the check out, he handed it to the man.  “There. Now he owes you nothing, and you can leave him, and his brothers, alone.” 

            Burgundy’s father was bewildered. There was no way any normal person could just write a check for that much money so casually.  “How can I be sure this check won’t bounce?” He snarled. 

            Siebold stepped towards the man, using his height to intimidate him.  “If you were smart, you would have taken a closer look at the check.  My name is Siebold Narcisse, and I’m the chef and owner of Apple of The Earth.  My restaurant is number one in Kalos, and you’re a _fool_ to have not recognized me.”  Getting in the man’s face, he added, “I assure you, the check _won’t_ bounce.” 

            Realizing who he had just yelled at, Burgundy’s father profusely apologized, and went on his way. 

            “Humph.”  With that, Siebold turned to face the young man, and began to push him along. “Once more, you’re coming with me.”

            “I’m so sorry, Siebold!”  He allowed himself to be dragged along, but not without apologizing at least a million times. 

            Siebold brought him to the restaurant, taking him in through the back door.  Nobody questioned his presence, only giving the young man with him a curious stare. A few of the staff remembered him from the other week. 

            Directing Cress to the dish room, he placed him next to another man.  “Get washing,” he directed. 

            “What?”  Cress asked. 

            Siebold gave him a pointed look. “You owe me €1,000. This is a rather light punishment, I would think.”  He looked up to the other man in the room.  “Grant, give him a crash course in washing.  Don’t let him leave until I come get him.” 

            “Sure thing, chef!”  The man agreed.  He waited for Siebold to leave before speaking again.  “Pull up those ratty sleeves, and tell me what you did to land in this position.”

            Cress grimaced, doing as instructed.

            Washing dishes wasn’t as difficult of as task as it was mundane.  Not having slip-resistant shoes, he had to stay in one spot the entire night.  

            There were a few other dish washers in the room, but Cress only spoke to Grant.  They were allotted ten-minute breaks every hour in order to let their hands dry off for a while.  Siebold would stop by every now and then to check up on him, but he found himself counting down every second to those ten minute breaks. 

            Finally, the night had ended. Every dish had been washed and put away.

            Siebold returned, giving Grant and the other washer the okay to go.  He then looked at Cress.  “Come with me,” he ordered.

            Looking around as he followed the chef, he noticed that nobody else seemed to occupy the restaurant.  Catching a glimpse of a clock, he saw that is was just after 11:00pm. 

            Walking out into the dining room, Cress noticed a single table set up with a meal. 

            “Eat,” Siebold spoke, walking him to the table.

            Cress looked up at him, surprised. “Are you sure?” He asked. 

            The tall man nodded.  “Yes.  Don’t worry. I won’t add it to your debt,” he added, taking the seat across from the young man. 

            Taking a timid bite out of his meal, the warm, savory flavors of the veal dish enveloped him.  He couldn’t remember the last time he had a warm meal that was this wonderful. 

            It surprised him because the dish was hardly dressed up.

            Though, considering what he was used to, this was the most high quality meal he had ever seen. 

            Which reminded him.  “I’m afraid to ask, but how much money do I owe you now?”

            “€930,” he simply stated. 

            He nearly spit out his meal at the number.

            Siebold looked horrified.  “Does that not taste alright?”  He asked, ready to stand. 

            Cress coughed. “N-no!”  He reached for his glass of water, giving himself a moment to calm down from his coughing fit.  “The amount of money surprised me, is all.  This tastes…amazing, actually.”  He looked up to Siebold.  “If I’m to be honest, I think it’s the best meal I’ve ever had.” 

            Visually relaxing, Siebold asked, “Really?”

            Cress nodded. 

            Leaning back into his chair, the chef added, “Well, I hope your brothers enjoy as well.” 

            Cress gave him a questioning look.

            “There were more than enough leftovers. I don’t like good food going to waste,” he stated. 

            Furrowing his brow, Cress placed his fork down. “Why are you helping me? Why do you care?”

            The question surprised Siebold. He hadn’t put much thought to it. Not upfront, anyways. “I don’t know. I don’t like seeing kids suffer?”

            “I’m seventeen about to be eighteen. I’m a legal adult here in Kalos. I’m not a kid,” he said indignantly.

            Siebold shrugged.  “Certainly older than I thought you were.” The words appeared to offend the young man, so he added, “It’s a compliment.” 

            Cress rolled his eyes.  “Fine, but okay, I’m not a kid.  Why do you care?” 

            He smirked.  “Because you owe me €930, still.”

            “What makes you think I’ll even come back to continue paying you back.” 

            His smirk remained in its place. “I was wondering when you were going to ask.”  He reached into his pocket, pulling out a standard poké ball. 

            The sight of Panpour’s poké ball caused Cress to clench his fists in his lap.  “How did you get Panpour?”  He demanded.

            The older man shrugged, fiddling with the capsule in his hands.  “Grant was a pickpocket in his younger years.  I had him pick it off you while you were distracted.” 

            Seeing the glare Cress was shooting him, he placed the capsule back into his pocket.  “I’ll return him to you after you’ve paid off your debt. I assure you that I will take excellent care of him.  I used to battle competitively, and I specialized in water type pokémon.  You have nothing to worry about.” 

            “Connard,” Cress hissed under his breath.

            Siebold chuckled.  “Yes, but I’m the _connard_ currently providing you and your brothers a free meal.”

            Cress was silent, refusing to meet his gaze.

            “Besides, we often end up with leftovers. If I can, I’ll send you off with enough to feed the three of you.” 

            He was still met with silence.

            “Can you honestly afford to decline this offer?”

            Mulling it over, he realized he had no choice. Siebold had trapped him, and he knew there would be no way out of it.  “Fine,” he conceded. 

            “Good.  You’ll be receiving a ‘pay’ of €10 an hour.  You’re schedule will be aligned with mine, so you’ll always have me to fall back on if needed.  I expect to see you here promptly at noon tomorrow.” 

            “What if I don’t make it here on time? I don’t exactly have a watch you know?”

            “Fair enough,” He responded, messing with the watch on his wrist.  Unclasping it, he then handed it to Cress.  “I wouldn’t try to sell it if I were you.” 

            Looking over the item in his hand, he could hardly think straight.  Surly the man was mad. Nobody in their right mind would just hand over such an expensive-looking watch to some street rat.

            “I could buy a house with how much this probably costs,” he said, giving him an incredulous look. 

            Siebold shook his head.  “Doubtful.  I got it while in Castelia City, Unova a couple of years back from a street vendor. I doubt it’s even real.”

            “Then why do you have it?” Cress asked, clasping the watch to his wrist. 

            “It was cheap and it keeps time. Helps that it looks like a real Rolex.”

            Cress nodded, only pretending to understand. It didn’t make sense that a man, who obviously had more than enough money to spare, wouldn’t just buy the real thing. 

            “Anyways.  Noon, tomorrow?” 

            “Noon, tomorrow,” Cress confirmed, continuing to stare at the watch. 

 

 

            “Where did you manage to score this?” Chili asked, stuffing his face with the meal Siebold had provided them. 

            Cilan looked up from splitting his half with Iris, curious of his answer. 

            “This person wasn’t careful when they sat their bag down, so I decided to snatch it from them,” he lied. 

            “Awesome job, man,” Chili praised, sharing a bite of the vegetables with Pansear.  “Told ya’ hitting and running is the only way.” 

            “Where’s Panpour?”  Iris asked after thanking Cilan for sharing with her.

            “He wasn’t feeling too well, today. I figure I’ll just let him rest for awhile.” 

            Cilan shot him a worried look, but it went unnoticed. 

            Cress was too busy worrying about how long the lies would suffice.  Sooner or later, he would have to explain exactly what was going on.  At least, for now, nobody had noticed the watch. 

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will be the last chapter for awhile.   
> I have a lot of personal things going on right now, and I just don't have the time or energy to focus on this.   
> I apologize.


	9. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

 

 

**Wednesday, 27 September 2017.  Noon. Apple Of The Earth.**

 

 

            “Oh, good, you’re here early. Come with me.”

            It was almost annoying how often Siebold said those three words.  Regardless, Cress followed the man to the back of the kitchen, expecting to be tossed back into the dish room.  Instead, he was lead to Siebold’s office. 

            The man walked inside, grabbing a set of clothes off his desk.  “Go change into these.  I took a guess on the sizes, so I apologize if it doesn’t fit properly.”  He handed the white uniform to Cress, ushering him to the employee bathroom. 

            The shirt was on the tight side, and the pants were a little loose, but he refused to complain. It had been a long time since he had a fresh pair of clothes.  Even if they didn’t belong to him, he still felt grateful to some extent.

            “I’ll be managing the front of the house until the end of my shift, so you won’t see much of me. Grant is still working in the dish room, and he’ll oversee you again.  Anything else can be directed to Jean, tonight’s sous chef.”  He glanced over at the man who was barking orders at the other chefs, and asking about the whereabouts of some sauce.  

            “Questions?” Siebold asked, returning his attention to Cress. 

            “No,” he replied.

            “Good. I’ll come get you at 5:00.”

            With that, he was turned over to Grant, and they immediately began to wash dishes.

            “Sorry for stealing your Panpour, kid,” he apologized as he placed a rack of wine glasses in the washer.

            Cress shrugged, rolling his sleeves up and dunking his hands into the warm, soapy water. “It’s not you’re fault. You’re just doing as Siebold tells you.”

            “So, what’s your story, Cress? How’d you end up on the streets?”

            Cress stopped scrubbing the plate in his hand.  It was a question he had hoped to avoid, however, he didn’t want to be rude.  “My parents died when I was ten.  My brothers and I were sent to live with relatives here in Kalos, but we hated them, and they hated us.  After being sent into foster care, and spending years in that dreadful system, we ran away, making it here to Lumiose.  Now, I’m here, washing dishes, while my brothers are out doing who knows what.”

            Grant nodded. He hadn’t expected Cress to actually answer his question.  He figured he was just going to say something to the effect of, “I don’t want to talk about it,” and be done with it. 

            For the rest of the day, they made mindless chitchat.  They talked about whatever came to mind, Grant usually leading the conversation.

            Cress got to learn about some of the drama in the restaurant. 

            Siebold was dating Jean, and they had been together for almost four years now.  Nobody was all that fond of Jean, but they all had a deep-seated respect for him, even more so for Siebold, so nobody ever said anything.

            Siebold was also known for his wild tempers when it came to food.  He hated nothing more than people who called themselves professionals, but acted like “pompous asses”.  However, he was also known to be extremely patient with anyone who was learning.

            To Cress, it all sounded like one big contradiction. 

            As amusing it all was, it didn’t really matter all that much to him.  He just wanted to pay off his debt and be done with the place.

            5:00pm easily rolled around thanks to Grant and the other washers killing time with stories.

            Cress’s hands ached, and he wanted to collapse from standing so long. 

            As promised, Siebold came to retrieve Cress.  “Meet me in my office,” He ordered. 

            Relieved that he wouldn’t have to touch another dish for the night, he headed in that direction. Siebold was busy speaking with Jean, and judging by his body language, Cress could tell that whatever they were talking about wasn’t going in Siebold’s favor. 

              Sitting in one of the office chairs, he rubbed his aching hands. He knew he hadn’t made much of a dent in his debt.  The thought of how many more time he would have to come wash dishes only worsened the pain in his wrists.

            “Sorry for making you wait.” Siebold’s heavy steps echoed in the small office.  Cress only looked at up him, not offering any words on his angered appearance. 

            He sat across from Cress, clasping his hands atop his desk.  “You’re debt is down to €880 as of now.” 

            The still-high number caused Cress to slouch in his seat.  The end of the nightmare was nowhere in sight. 

            “Panpour is doing well. He settled right in with the rest of my pokémon, and seems to favor my Blastiose.”

            “Wonderful,” Cress sarcastically replied. 

            Siebold refused to bite into a battle of sarcasm.  He already knew it was a battle he knew he could easily win.  “I expect to see you again on Friday, at 2:00pm. You’ll work with me until closing.”

            “ _With me.”_   Cress found the choice of words almost hilarious.  No. He would be washing dishes until closing.  Nine hours of washing dishes.  Surly that was illegal.

            “That can’t be legal,” he voiced. 

            Siebold leaned back in his chair.  “It is if you owe me money. Remember, you’re not just selling your labor to me.  You’re paying me back.”

            Cress dug his fingers into the sides of the chair.  “You’re the biggest asshole I’ve ever met.” 

            Siebold was unimpressed. “Is that any way to talk to the man who just bailed you out of a €1,000 debt?  A debt that would probably have resulted in you being put in jail due to, I assume, thievery?” 

            He only puffed an angry breath in response. 

            “I’ll give you a hint: no. It’s not,” the chef continued. “You’re lucky I’m feeling rather amicable today.  Change back into your old clothes, and I’ll have those washed for you on Friday.” He pointed to a stack of folded table clothes.  Atop the pile were his clothes, also washed. 

            Picking them up, he headed off to the employee bathroom to change once more.  The clothes were still warm, and they were probably the cleanest they had ever been since he received them.  “I bet just the sight of old clothes made him gag.  Tch.  Rich people,” he grumbled, shrugging on his clothes. 

            Returning to his office, he tossed the worn uniform on the man’s desk, and resumed his spot. Legs and arms cross, he waited for Siebold to continue. 

            “2:00pm on Friday?” He asked, picking the uniform off his desk, dropping it to the floor. 

            If he wasn’t currently holding Panpour hostage, he would have told him to piss off. Instead, he merely grumbled some semblance of acceptance. 

            “Good. The meals for your brothers are already packaged…” 

           

           

**Friday, 29 September 2017.  Afternoon. Apple Of The Earth.**

 

            Ducking away from his brothers wasn’t easy.  Coming up with reasons as to how he was returning with food was equally challenging. Only so many people could be stupid enough to place their carryout bags on the ground.  Making up why they hadn’t seen Panpour was getting damn near impossible. 

            Still, he didn’t want to worry Cilan or Chili, so he forced himself to sneak away, heading for Apple Of The Earth. 

            He had only been there three times now, but the restaurant’s smell was already becoming familiar. Even though the nightly special changed depending on what Siebold or Jean felt, there were the staple dishes that always filled the air. 

            The first thing he noticed upon stepping into the restaurant was the smell of halibut. His stomach growled in response, but it went unnoticed by Siebold. 

            Like the previous shift, Siebold took him to his office, gave him a change of clothes, and then sent him on his way to the dish room. 

            Siebold left for the kitchen, only to be blocked by Jean. 

            “Why is that rat here again, Siebold?”  He hissed, walking with the other man to the kitchen. 

            “He owes us money.”

            Jean shook his head, motioning for Siebold to join him in the dry storage area.  “How much money does he owe us exactly?” 

            “At this point, €880. He was being chased by some storeowner who he had a €1000 debt to, so I decided to pay it off for him. I’m not above helping the poor boy.”

            Jean pinched the bridge of his nose, not believing what he was hearing.  “Why would you even think that’s a good idea?” 

            “I realize you and I have been dating for almost four years now, but you should realize that it’s _my_ money I’m spending. Not yours.” 

            Those words set off Jean. “We wouldn’t _just_ be _dating_ if you would only say yes!” 

            Siebold’s eyes went wide. “ _Excuse me?”_  

            “You heard me! If you would just stop rejecting my proposal every time, we could have been married by now!” 

            The argument had already been giving Siebold a headache.  They always did.  The thought of marriage, however, was making him sick to his stomach.  “You know I’m not ready for that kind of commitment,” he stated, looking away from Jean. 

            Jean rolled his eyes. “I hardly believe that at this point.”

            Siebold didn’t see what any of this had to do with their original argument.  He needed to get back to work.  Not argue with Jean in the dry storage area for the umpteenth time. Arguing about marriage and living together.  Both ideas made him sick.

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	10. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

 

**Monday, 2 October 2017.  Late Afternoon. Apple Of The Earth**

Working from 5:00 to 10:00 that night sucked. It always did.

            Though, seeing how patient Siebold was with his new server astounded him.  He was always gentle, but firm in his words. She had even dropped a tray stacked with empty plates when he was teaching her how to balance the tray.

            He didn’t even seem upset over the broken dishes.  “I’m ordering a new set here soon anyways.  I’m sick of their design,” he had told her. 

            Cress half expected him to fire her for the mistake. 

            Then again, maybe Siebold wasn’t such a bad guy after all. 

          

 

**Tuesday, 3 October 2017. Late Afternoon. Apple Of The Earth**

            Cress hurried his way through the kitchen.  He was careful to avoid any of the cooks, and made sure to voice, “Behind” as he worked his way around them. 

            The warm, savory smells of veal enveloped him.  For a mere second, he found himself distracted.  In that second, he collided with Jean.             

            The dishes fell to the ground, sending a cascade of shattered porcelain through the kitchen.

            Cress looked at the sous chef, who was now fuming with anger. “You know, rat, I have half the mind to leave Siebold because of you.”

            “What does anything I do have to do with your shitty relationship skills?”  Cress could have sworn all noise in the kitchen ground to a halt as he said that, and he instantly regretted his words. 

            Jean got in his face. “First you throw us into debt, and now you’re wrecking our inventory.  You’re not even in proper attire.  You don’t belong here, rat.  You belong on the streets with the rest of your kind.” 

            Servers peered over the food window, trying to get a view of what was happening.  The other chefs kept an eye on their food, but kept an ear on the conversation.  Surly Jean was about to kick the boy out. 

            “Jean!”

            If Grant hadn’t stepped in when he did, Cress would have hit him.  The hand on his shoulder simmered him down enough to think rationally.

            “So sorry, chef! I was the one who sent him through the kitchen.  Cut him a break. I’m at fault here.” Grant did well to soothe Jean’s anger, but it didn’t shake Cress’s any. 

            “Just make sure this mess gets cleaned up,” Jean hissed before returning to what he was doing.

            Grant guided Cress back into the dish room, letting go of the sigh he had been holding onto. The normal kitchen noise resumed, but it didn’t aid in comforting Cress any. 

            “Xerneas, I hate that guy,” Grant mumbled. 

            Cress found himself shaking with anger.  “Why is Siebold even dating him?  He could do so much better!” He hissed.  He almost added, “ _He deserves so much better_ ,” but Grant had already begun answering his first question.

            “I’m not entirely sure why they’re dating.  They’ve been seeing each other for years now.  Jean’s just…the only thing the guy has left, I guess.”  He grabbed for a broom and dustpan as he spoke. 

            Cress’s questioning look prompted him to continue. 

            “Both of Siebold’s parents are dead.  They have been since he was 18.  Siebold and Jean started dating when he was 17.  Jean has pretty much been his main support system.” 

            “I think it’s hilarious that they don’t even live together!”  Another washer added. 

            Grant nodded. “I’ve known Siebold for years; longer than anyone here, anyways.  He’s a…solitary guy.”  He paused for a moment, leaning on the broom.  “Anyways! I’m going to go clean up those broken dishes.  You stay here and get working on those wine glasses.  I think keeping you out of Jean’s sight is a good idea for now.” 

            Cress agreed, not wanting to face Jean again for awhile. 

            Though, as he began to prewash the wine glasses, he realized something: it wasn’t Jean he was afraid of. He could have cared less about Jean. It was Siebold he was terrified of.

            Even then, it wasn’t a physical fear.  He didn’t think Siebold would ever hurt him again like their first meeting.  He was afraid of disappointing him more than anything.  

            It was a strange notion to Cress. 

            At the end of the night, after Siebold had collected him from his work, he was told that his debt had fallen down to €690.  It was still a staggering amount of money, and he was still feeling like he would never pay it off.

            “I have an offer for you,” Siebold began, sitting with Cress in his office. 

            Cress placed the plate of food in his lap, giving Siebold his full attention. 

            “I’m behind as far as restaurant setup is concerned.  Normally, I’ve set up my fall decorations and whatnot by the middle of September. However, the restaurant is still in full summer setup.  If you’re interested, you can come by tomorrow night and help me set things up. I’ll pay you double for however long we take.”

            In Cress’s mind, it seemed like a great idea.  However, he couldn’t help but voice one concern of his.  “What would Jean think about that?  I know he’s still pissed at me after breaking those plates.”

            Siebold ran a hand through his hair.  “Oh my– Is that what he’s been pissed about?”  He asked.

            Cress nodded. “I was taking some of the dishes back to the kitchen, and I got distracted for a second, and ran into Jean. He yelled at me and said things like I don’t belong here…” If he could just get Siebold to see how awful Jean really was. 

            Siebold fell back into his chair, sighing.  “That man I swear…his temper is worse than a Mankey.” 

            Cress tried to repress his laugh, but he couldn’t. 

            “I’ve ordered an entire new set of plates and silverware.  I’m not worried about the loss of a few plates.  Hell, destroy them all.  See if I care.”

            Again, Cress laughed.

            He liked Siebold when he was away from Jean.  He was far better company when it was just the two of them. 

            “So, regardless of what Jean thinks, you’re more than welcome to work tomorrow night.”

            Cress agreed to working, but he wished Siebold was more willing to make decisions on his own, not swayed by Jean’s opinion. 

         

 

**Wednesday, 4 October 2017.  Night. Apple Of The Earth**

            “I trust Panpour is well?” Cress asked, fishing for conversation with Siebold. 

            Siebold looked up from the cloth he was spreading, meeting Cress’s gaze.  “Very well.  He’s taken up battling with some of my pokémon.  I believe he’s turned his Bite into a Crunch.  It seems more powerful here lately, anyways,” he answered.

            Cress put down his share of table clothes in a chair to go help Siebold flatten out his cloth.

            “Interesting. Panpour and I haven’t battled in forever, really,” he continued. 

            “I can tell. His movements started out sluggish, but I think with a little work, he could be a fine battling partner. Maybe even one fit for a gym leader,” Siebold mused. 

            Moving on to the next table, Cress abandoned his pile, figuring they might work faster together. “Speaking of, why isn’t there a Pokémon League here in Kalos?” 

            Siebold shrugged. “I couldn’t tell you why. Maybe not enough interest? Many of the other regions are in an alliance of sorts, and their league holds governmental power. Our president and prime minister probably don’t want to share any power.” 

            This confused Cress. “Couldn’t the league just not have power?  I mean, in Unova, the sports leagues didn’t have any political power.  Why couldn’t a Pokémon League be the same way?”

            Siebold stopped what he was doing, thinking that idea over.  It was such a simple solution, he wondered why the region had yet to create a league.

            Shrugging, he said, “Good to know the homeless population had better ideas than our actual government.”

            Cress rolled his eyes. “Politicians in general are awful, and don’t look out for anyone but themselves.  A lot of the people in my group are some of the first to give. We know what it’s like to have nothing.”

            Cress continued without Siebold for awhile, placing the new table clothes, and pressing them flat.

            As Siebold watched him work, he felt stuck with sympathy pain. 

            He also hoped that somebody would soon buy his father’s old mansion.  The profit from that would hopefully make a difference for a lot of the people in the city. Hopefully, Cress too.  The young man deserved that much. 

            An audible growl caught his attention. Looking to Cress, he noticed that he had a hand across his stomach.  “S-sorry…haven’t eaten since yesterday,” he mumbled, forcing himself to continue with the tablecloths. 

            Siebold chuckled. “Well,” he began, looking to the watch on his wrist.  “There’s no sense in making you work on an empty stomach.  How about I teach you to make something?” 

            The look Cress was giving rivaled that of an excited Lillipup.  “You would really teach me?” 

            It wasn’t even the idea of food that excited Cress.  Getting to learn from the best chef in Kalos felt like a once in a lifetime treat.

            “Of course.”

            Siebold led him into the kitchen, and back to the walk-in fridge.  “Anything in mind?  A favorite dish?”  He prompted.

            Cress shrugged. “Well, if I’m to be honest, anything you’ve prepared has been my favorite.” 

            “You flatter me,” Siebold responded.  Looking around the fridge, he grabbed for a few vegetables, and then headed for the freezer.

            The blast of cold air that greeted the two caused a visible shudder from Cress. 

            “Not a fan of the cold?” Siebold asked, grabbing what he needed.

            Cress bolted out of the freezer.  “Not in the least.”

            “Well, go wash your hands, and we’ll get started.”

            It was strange how different the kitchen sounded when it was just the two of them. Every noise they made was swallowed by the empty kitchen.  It was even cold until Siebold turned on the stoves. 

            Cress stood by patiently, watching as Siebold cut up a mango. 

            “Vinaigrettes are, in my opinion, one of the easiest dressings to make.  They don’t require too many ingredients, and are very versatile. It can be as sweet or bitter as you want it,” he explained, keeping a careful eye on his cuts.

            Once he finished, he grabbed the other mango, passing it to Cress.  He droned on about knife skills, making sure Cress knew exactly how to hold the knife and the fruit. 

            For Cress, it wasn’t difficult at all.  If anything, it was just refreshing him of what he learned from his parents. 

            The vinaigrette came out a little too sweet for Cress’s taste, but he decided that he wasn’t in a position to complain.  Remaining silent on the matter, they moved on to the main dish: pan seared scallops.

            Siebold had avoided cooking them for the past few months.  Ever since he made them the nightly special back in June, he developed a strong distaste for the shellfish.  Their smell, normally, would make him sick to his stomach. 

            As the scallops seared away in the pan of heated olive oil, their warm, spiced smell brought a smile to his face. 

            A few of Cress’s scallops were on the darker side, but not to the point where he would have deemed them inedible. 

            Sitting with Cress back in the dining room, they shared their meal.  “Excellent work for your first time cooking,” he praised. “I might make a chef out of you yet.”

            Cress smiled, looking off to the side.  “Don’t get my hopes up like that.  Being a chef if something I could only dream of.  Being trained by you, well, I find that even more unthinkable.” 

            The statement didn’t settle well with Siebold.  He hated thinking that he might be another person in Cress’s life to let him down.

            Secretly, he vowed to do whatever he could to make sure that didn’t happen. 

 

 

**Friday, 6 October 2017.  Night. Hibernal Avenue.**  

            _“I just…don’t understand these feelings.  They-they can’t be natural!  How could I fall in love with someone like him?”_

            A loud, overly anguished groan filled the air.  “Dear Reshiram and Zekrom, help me survive this awful crap,” Chili grumbled.

            He received a prompt “ _shh_ ” from both Burgundy and Cilan, who were completely invested in the movie they were watching.

            “I’ll agree with you later on how terrible this movie is, but until then, I need to know if they end up together or not!”  Burgundy snapped, returning her attention to the movie. 

            Chili let out another grumble, much to Cress’s amusement. 

            Burgundy’s parents were away for the next two weeks, and she had graciously allowed the boys to stay with her for the time being.  In return, they had promised to help her keep the bakery running smoothly.

            After ordering in some food, they had settled in on some terrible romance film.  Its story was cliché and easy to follow, but Cilan and Burgundy found themselves enamored with it. 

            Cress found himself hardly paying attention.  He was more focused on the anxious feeling in his stomach.  He hated that he wouldn’t be going back to Apple of The Earth until Wednesday. No longer was he anxious to pay off his debt.  He was anxious to see Siebold again, and hopefully see Panpour some time. 

            At least, until then, he would have a place to stay.  Even if his bed was just a pallet of blankets on the floor, it was much better than anything else he had for the past few months. 

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	11. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

 

**Saturday, 7 October 2017. Early Morning. Hibernal Avenue.**

 

            The air outside was whipped its way through the streets.  The sun wouldn’t rise for a few more hours, allowing the small layer of ice to keep hold of the pavement.

            Though, inside the bakery, Chili would have given just about anything for a breath of cold air. 

            “Maybe at heart I’ve always wanted to work in a bakery, but these early morning hours can kiss my–”

            “ _Chili!_ ” Burgundy swung the tray of croissants extra close to him.  “Ta gueule!”

            He looked at her, momentarily distracted from the heat.  “Did you just…say something about an animal’s muzzle?”

            For a few seconds she was surprised. Though, here lately, he had begun to pick up more of what she was saying in her brief French phrases.

            She placed the tray on the counter, saying, “Yes, actually.  It means you’re yapping and making no sense.” 

            “Well, it’s fucking hot in here, so _pardon moi_ ,” he griped. 

            She rolled her eyes, about to bite into his bickering, when Cress walked down to the bakery. 

            “Goodness, I can hear you two from upstairs.” He looked to Chili. “Why don’t you make yourself useful and take out the trash, and clean the dining area?  Leave Burgundy alone for awhile.” 

            Burgundy snickered as Chili huffed out of the kitchen.  “I don’t know how you put up with him,” she commented once Chili was out of earshot.

            Cress shrugged, walking over to the sink to wash his hands before helping her.  “I could say the same to you.”

            She began to pull the croissants off their tray. “I don’t know what you mean,” she said, resulting in a laugh from Cress.

            “Right.  Sure. I was just hallucinating that I saw him sneaking out of your room this morning.”

            Her face went bright red as she dropped the croissant she was holding.  “I-I-I…” she struggled for words, much to Cress’s amusement.  “We will continue this conversation in French,” she demanded.

            “D’accord,” he responded.  He figured she didn’t want Chili to catch her saying anything about him, but it was his understanding that Chili had begun to actually pick up more of the language. 

            “Yes, he has snuck out of my room a few times since the three of you have been here, but don’t think too much into that!” She warned. 

            He shrugged.  “I’m not sure what else I’m supposed to make of it.”

            “Look, I really do care a lot about Chili, but my parents would not allow me to see him, and it kills me.”

            “Do you understand how much it frustrates him as well?  I’ve never seen him so happy around someone.  At this point, I do have to question your feelings,” he admitted. 

            She began placing the remaining croissants in their basket.  “Pourquoi?” She asked. 

            He leaned against the sink. “Why do you care so much about what your parents say?  Why not just go against them?  Why not just be with him and not play with his emotions?”

            She gritted her teeth.  “Why don’t you tell your brothers where you go every couple of nights?”  She suddenly asked.

            His heart was sent racing. “Pardon?” 

            “You heard me.”  She turned to face him.  “I know your over at Apple Of The Earth, working there.  Your brothers don’t seem to know that, though.”

            “Chili might not understand fully what we are saying, but Cilan will. Don’t talk so-“

            “He’s not here.  He already left to check on Iris since she’s still being stubborn about not staying with us.  Answer me,” she demanded, crossing her arms. 

            He was stuck in a bind.  He couldn’t risk the off chance that Chili would understand what they were saying.  He didn’t want them to know what had happened.  “How do you know?”  He asked.

            “I was there the however long ago it was with my parents.  There seemed to be a commotion back in the kitchen.  When I looked back, I happened to see a person who looked a lot like you getting shoved back to the other side of the kitchen.  I notice you making excuses to sneak away, but I also know that Chili has told me that none of you have a job.  Why haven’t you told them?” 

            Cress was silent, careful to pick over his answer.

            While waiting for him, Chili had gone back through the kitchen area, mumbling something about “Oh, sure, you two can bicker in French but Zekrom forbid I gripe at her in English…”

            They waited for him to disappear into the dining area before continuing.

            “Do you remember the day your father chased after me when I had been walking by?”  He cautiously asked. 

            She gave a slow nod. 

            “Well, not long before that, Chili and I got into an argument that eventually lead to me stealing from a food delivery truck. A truck for Apple Of The Earth. The owner, Siebold Narcisse, caught me and I thought I was done for.  Though, after talking with him, I discovered that Siebold isn’t as awful as he seems. He’s actually quite generous. Anyways, that day your father was chasing after me, I ran into Siebold again.  He ended up bailing me out of that €1000 debt we apparently owed to your father, and now I’m paying him off.  Siebold is holding onto Panpour until I pay off my debt.  I don’t want them worrying about me.” 

            For a minute, she almost didn’t believe him. But it then occurred to her that she hadn’t seen his Panpour in quite some time. 

            “Besdies, Siebold always sends be back with whatever leftovers he can.  Apart from keeping Panpour, he’s actually quite a generous man,” Cress defended.

            Burgundy studied his features for a minute. The brothers had been looking well fed as of recently, but she hadn’t put much thought to it.  

            Shaking her head, she said, “T’es fou,” she mumbled.

            As if on cue, one of the oven’s timers went off. They both looked in the direction of it, neither making a move to actually turn it off. 

            Finally, Cress stepped forward to stop the timer. “Believe me, I’ve known that for awhile now.”

 

 

 

**Wednesday, 11 October 2017. Night.  Apple Of The Earth.**

_“I have something different in mind for the next time you work.”_

            Cress wasn’t exactly sure what to expected when Siebold had said that to him last week.  Following him around, essentially being trained as a server wasn’t what he had in mind, though.

            He had given Siebold the proper measurements for his work clothes, and looking as well dressed as the rest of the servers was foreign to him.  Sure, sometimes he would get decent clothing from the shelters, but usually nothing was name brand.

            He was to remain silent for the most part, only watching how Siebold greeted the tables. 

            Even if Siebold was scowling in the kitchen he refused to show any of that emotion in the dining room.  He strongly emphasized separating his emotions. In the dining room, only positive emotions were allowed be shown.  It didn’t matter how terrible of a day he was having; in front of the customers, he had to appear like he was having a wonderful day. 

            “At this point,” Siebold began, standing with Cress in the kitchen, “there isn’t much for us to do.  So, until we’re needed, we’re going to practice balancing trays.”

            Cress nodded, watching as Siebold grabbed a large serving tray.  “How exactly am I supposed to know when I’m needed?” He asked. 

            “I’ve been doing this long enough to just know when I have to.  You, on the other hand, can periodically check the door.  The windows have a full view of the dining room, and our table is closest to the kitchen.  Now,” he began, placing the round tray in the window.  He grabbed a few empty plates, setting them around the tray. 

            Siebold picked up the tray, carefully bringing it up to his shoulder.  “In my restaurant, this is how we carry trays.  It will take a little getting used to, but I think you’ll manage it just fine.” He brought the tray back down, handing it off to Cress. 

            Cress imitated his movements, only having difficulty in the placement of his hand.  “Why like this?  It seems more difficult.”

            “It is.  I think it looks better, and you avoid potentially hitting someone’s head with the tray,” Siebold bluntly answered, already reaching for more plates. “Put the tray back down, and we’ll go again.” 

            By the time they needed to run the food, Cress couldn’t remember his arm ever being sorer.  It amazed him how Siebold seemed completely unfazed, though.

            At the end of the night, after the kitchen had been shut down, and all the remaining servers had gone home, Cress sat with Siebold in his office. 

            “Well, Cress, as of tonight, your debt is down to €470,” he stated, leaning back in his chair. 

            Cress sighed, partially in relief, the other half in disbelief.  It felt like he had been going to the restaurant for ages now.

            “Oh, and I brought you something.” His change in tone caught Cress’s attention. 

            Looking to Siebold, he watched him pull out a standard poké ball.  He released the water pokémon. 

            Panpour looked around, momentarily confused. But the second he heard Cress’s voice call his name, he squeaked in delight. 

            Cress laughed as Panpour leaped into his arms.

            The sight of Cress being reunited with his pokémon brought a smile to Siebold’s face. 

            “Thank you, but…why?”  Cress asked, not taking his eyes off of Panpour.

            Siebold shrugged.  “I figured it would be a nice reward to making it halfway.”

            For the rest of the night, Cress could hardly focus on eating.  He was more happy to see Panpour than anything. 

            “I’m curious, Siebold,” Cress began, looking up at the other man. 

            Siebold hummed in acknowledgement.

            “What makes you think I won’t just run off with Panpour right now?”  He asked.

            Siebold stared at him.  “Am I wrong to put this kind of trust in you?” He simply asked.

            Cress held his gaze.  “No,” he answered after awhile.  

**Wednesday, 18 October 2017. Late Night. 75010 Vernal Avenue, Lumiose City.**

The rapid knocking at his door forced Siebold awake. He rolled over to his side to see the clock read 23:17.   

            He grumbled to himself the entire way to the door, the knocks increasing in velocity. 

            Before he could reach it, the door was forced open, slamming against the opposite wall. 

            “ _Siebold!”_ It was Jean. 

            Siebold took a step back.  “Goodness, Jean, could you not wait another minute? Or even until tomorrow?”

            Jean slammed the door behind him, ignoring Siebold. “Why is that rat _still_ in our restaurant?  Why was he there again, yesterday?”

            “Why are you so hung up on that?” He took another step back as Jean started getting closer to him. 

            “Why are you avoiding the damn question Siebold? Why do you avoid it every damn time I ask?”  His footsteps shook the floor below them as he stomped towards Siebold. 

            Backed against his loveseat, Siebold couldn’t get away.  His height advantage did nothing for him.  Jean intimidated him more than anyone. 

            The second Jean raised his hand Siebold flinched.

            “ _Why!”_

_“Don’t!”_

_“You!” “_

_“Listen!_ ”

 

 

 

**Thursday, 19 October 2017. Late Afternoon. Apple Of The Earth.**

 

            “So,” the woman began, leaning forward in her seat. She gave a quick glance to Siebold, but refocused on Cress.  “Let me ask you this: what is your favorite thing on the menu?”  She asked. 

            Cress hummed in thought.  After a few seconds, he finally answered. “I would have to say that I am torn between the olive oil poached halibut, and the Blanquette de Veau.”

            “Tell me more about the halibut,” she prompted.

            Without missing a beat, he explained the process of how the halibut was prepared, and why it was his favorite.

            Once she had decided on her meal Cress and Siebold headed back to the kitchen, giving the caller the order.

            “I’m very impressed with you tonight,” Siebold praised. 

            “Only tonight?  Every other night, have I been terrible?” He asked, pretending to be offended.

            Siebold ignored the quip.  “I’m being completely serious.  I can’t tell you how many times the first night I let a new server take over things they end up freezing.  You handled her questions very well, and even knew what wine to suggest after hardly a week.  I’m very proud of you.”

            Cress avoided his gaze.  “Thank you, Siebold.

            In some ways, Cress loved getting praise from Siebold.  He loved feeling like he was actually belonging at the restaurant. 

            At the same time, he hated knowing he _didn’t_.  He hated knowing that Jean still completely disapproved oh him being there.  And, if Jean got his way, once his debt was paid off, he would never see the restaurant again.  

            The end of the night soon came, and like always, Cress sat in Siebold’s office.  “Well, that was an interesting night,” he commented before taking a bite of his halibut.

            Siebold nodded, organizing a few things on his desk. “You handled it very well. I’m almost tempted to tell you who you were serving.”

            Cress paused.  “When you say it like that, I can’t help but be curious.”

            Siebold shrugged, figuring it would be alright. “That was my friend, Valerie. She’s a food critic.”

            Cress’s eyes went wide in response. “You let me, a first time server, serve a food critic?”  Surly Siebold was mad. 

            The other man shrugged.  “I mean her critiques are…biased at best. She usually doesn’t write one, though, since the public knows we’re friends.  She just lets me know what I need to do before a different critic arrives.”

            “You let me serve a _food critic_?”  Cress restated.

            Siebold laughed.  “Yes. I trusted you.  You have good instinct.”

            Cress wasn’t convinced. 

            “Plus, my lifting arm is sore today.”

            “Something happen?”  Cress asked, momentarily distracted. 

            He noted that Siebold wouldn’t look him in the eye as he spoke.  Instead, he kept an eye on the door.  “I had a training accident with Barbaracle is all.  Even I can be clumsy sometimes,” he joked. 

            The response didn’t settle well with Cress. The more he thought on it, the more he realized Siebold had been favoring his other arm. The behavior was strange, but he couldn’t place why. 

 

 

 

**Saturday, 21 October 2017. Late Afternoon. Apple Of The Earth.**

 

            Being back on dish duty wasn’t Cress’s favorite job. It was more difficult than he remembered.

            “Then again, maybe I just liked being a server more,” he mumbled to himself, scrubbing lipstick off a wine glass.

            “I hear you,” he heard Grant respond.

            Cress hadn’t realized Grant was within earshot. “You know,” he began, trying to appear unfazed.  “I’ve been meaning to ask you: I’ve seen you in practically every role in the kitchen. What exactly is your job, if you don’t mind my asking?” 

            Grant laughed, wiping down a pan. “I guess you could call me the Tournant, or Spare Hand.  Siebold says I’m great at everything, so I just do whatever he needs for the night. I don’t normally fill in so much for dish duty, but one of the guys is out because his wife just had a baby. Siebold wasn’t about to have him miss time with his child and wife just to wash dishes.”

            “So, wait, he has paid...paternity leave?” Cress asked. 

            Grant nodded.  “Oh, yeah.  He’s big on giving men just as much leave as women.” 

            Cress remained silent, thinking over those words.

            Siebold, who was once such a rough person in his mind, was nothing like he originally thought.  Every day, he felt he was getting more and more impressed with him…

 

 

            Unlike the past few days he had worked, Siebold had Cress join him in the main dining room for his meal. 

            “I apologize for throwing you back on dish duty. I was needed as a chef tonight, and I didn’t want to just leave you with my head server,” Siebold mentioned, pouring each of them a glass of water. 

            Cress grinned.  “I feel special.”

            Siebold chuckled in response. “You should.  It’s not often that I personally train a server. I usually let Alexis or the head server handle that.” 

            Silence fell between them for awhile. Cress danced around asking a certain question, even though he knew the answer.  He always kept track of how much he owed Siebold, but he knew he was getting close to the end of his debt.  And although he was looking forward to seeing Panpour once more, he was _not_ looking forward to leaving Siebold behind.

            Finally, he forced himself to ask the question. “What does my debt look like now?”

            Siebold leaned back, stretching his legs out below the table.  “€50,” he stated.

            Cress hummed an acknowledgement, but was lost on what to follow up with.  Instead, he stretched a leg out, resting it against Siebold’s.  He either didn’t notice, or didn’t mind. 

            “You’re getting towards the end,” he continued.

            Cress nodded.  “It…seems strange,” he admitted. 

            Siebold smiled at him.  “It does.  I’ve…enjoyed your company, Cress.  Immensely.”

            “I’ve enjoyed you, and being here as well. It’s been an experience of a lifetime.”

            “I’m,” Siebold paused. 

            Cress noticed Siebold lean his leg against his. The simple action made his mouth dry from nervousness.  Grabbing his glass of water, he waited for Siebold to continue. 

            “I hate to put a downer on you being free from me,” Cress hated that choice of wording, “but I don’t know that I’ll be able to fit you into the schedule until next week.” 

            “That’s alright.  I don’t mind waiting.  Paying you back is important.”  He knew that wasn’t his exactly his motive anymore.  His reason was purely selfish at that point. 

            Siebold sat up, pulling his leg from Cress’s. “Which reminds me.” He stood up.  “I forgot that I have something for you in my office. Come with me.” His words seemed unsure, like he wasn’t certain of his own actions. 

            Cress stood without a word, following Siebold back into the kitchen.  At that moment, Siebold could have walked just about anywhere, and he knew he would follow. He tried to not concentrate on the nervous pit in his stomach.   

            Cress stood in the doorway to his office, watching Siebold dig around in his coat pocket.  His heart skipped a beat when he saw Panpour’s poké ball.

            Siebold walked up to him, offering it to him. “I figured I could return him to you now.” 

            Reaching for the capsule, Cress looked up to Siebold. “What makes you think I’ll keep coming back? If I have Panpour back, what’s my incentive?”  He asked, trying not to show how nervous he was.  Though, it was a battle he was quickly losing.  With Siebold standing so close, he could hardly think straight.

            “I suppose that is up to you now, isn’t it?” He asked, not moving.

            Pocketing the item, he trailed his other hand up Siebold’s arm.  “I guess I know deep down that I will always return to you…but why do you trust me so much? I’m just a street rat,” he reminded, taking a hold of Siebold’s sleeve. 

            With Siebold’s sleeve slightly pulled up, he briefly noticed the bruising on his right arm.  His first thought: _Jean._ The thought of Jean ever laying an ungentle hand on Siebold made him sick to his stomach. 

            Siebold brought himself enough closer to distract Cress. “Cress, you are far more than a street rat.  You could,” he began, imitating Cress’s action, “be so much more.  You could be incredible.  Though, if I am to be honest, I already think you are.” 

            Cress tried to force himself to look elsewhere, but he found himself only able to look at the other man’s lips. “That’s not what Jean thinks,” he spoke.

            He looked back up to Siebold’s eyes. To say they were simply blue would be like saying the sun is yellow.  It would suffice, but it could never properly capture the burning he was faced with. 

            “He’s not important,” Siebold stated, squeezing lightly on Cress’s arms.  “You are the only important person right now.”

            Forcing himself to be brave, Cress whispered, “Prove it to me.” 

            He could have sworn Siebold started to lean it, but at the last second, pulled away. 

            “I can’t.  N-next week,” he mumbled, forcing himself away from the situation. “I need to- to check a quick inventory on dry storage.  Finish your meal without me.”

            As Cress watched him walk away, he felt the anxiety in his stomach churn into anger.  “Damn idiot,” he cursed, returning to the dining room.

            While next week couldn’t come soon enough, he had the worry in the back of his mind that this was Siebold’s way of rejecting him. 

 

 

 

            The second Siebold walked into his house, he threw his coat over the back of the sofa and ran off to his room.

            He was fully aware of what almost happened. However, as much as Jean had physically and mentally hurt him, he refused to stoop down to his level. He wouldn’t cheat.

            Digging his phone out of his pocket, he hit Jean’s name, not caring that it was late at night. 

            It only took a few rings for the other man to pick up. 

            “ _Dear Yveltal, what the hell do you want at this hour?”_   He demanded. 

            “We’re done.  I’ve taken you off the schedule for the week.  Don’t bother showing up.  We’re done,” Siebold spat. 

            He heard some rustling on the other end. “ _Excuse me?”_

            “Don’t play dumb.  I’m done with you.  I’m done with the way you treat me.  I’m done. I’m just done, Jean.”

            He forced himself to hang up before he could register anything Jean was yelling about.  Maybe it wasn’t completely how he wanted it to go, but he was done. While it felt great, the weight didn’t feel completely off his shoulders yet. 

            Grabbing Barbaracle’s poké ball, he released the water pokémon.  He hated doing it because it felt completely childish, but he ordered Barbaracle to guard the door.

            Even with that security, he found it hard to sleep that night, and the following.  Each day walking to work felt like torture. He didn’t feel safe, and he hated it. It didn’t matter how many knives were in the kitchen.  He worried that Jean would do what Jean did best: turn it all against him. 

.

.

.

 

 

 

 


	12. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

 

**Friday, 27 October 2017. Night.  Apple Of The Earth.**

 

            Siebold stood in front of the stove, not daring to take his eyes off the flank steak he was preparing.  Once cooked to a perfect medium-rare, he took it off the stove to rest. 

            With Jean off the schedule for the week, he had to fill in for his duties.  It didn’t help that his demi chef had also called in sick.  He was fortunate enough to have his night manager step in to help.

            Alexis stood by patiently, a plate of watercress in hand. “So,” she began carefully.

            His eyes darted to her, inviting her to continue.

            “’Sup with all the watercress this week?” She asked, keeping her eyes on her boss.

            He remained silent for a moment, contemplating her words.  Surly he hadn’t been using the ingredient enough to be questioned.  “I’ve only used it for a few specials this week,” he stated.

            She cocked an eyebrow.  “Uh-huh,” she responded.  Leaning against the prep station she continued, “Monday: cocoa dusted scallops with watercress and apricots.  Tuesday: Spinach fettuccini with grape tomatoes and watercress. Wednesday: The entrée was served with a watercress citrus salad.  Thursday: Another scallop and watercress dish.  Yesterday–”

            “Okay, okay, I get your point,” he said. “It’s been a watercress kind of week.”

            She gave a loud “Hah” that echoed through the kitchen.  “Siebold, I’m gonna be real with you: I see right through you.” 

            He stared at her for a moment, before forcing himself to return to his work.  “Exactly what are you seeing?”  He asked. As he sliced the steak, he felt the back of his neck burning. 

            She leaned on her arm.  “Can I offer some counseling?  It’s just you and me.  The servers are out in the dining room, and you’re the only chef right now.”

            He nodded, placing the steak on the bed of watercress.  “Run that first, and I’ll think about it.” 

            She grinned, snatching the meal from him. “B-R-B, Chef!”

            Watching as she dashed out of the room, he sighed, exasperated.  Contemplating it wasn’t even an option at this point.  She was going to make him talk –even if it took all night.

            Moments later, she returned to the kitchen, eager to talk.  But before she could even get a word out, Siebold said, “We have an hour until closing. If it can wait until then, I would prefer that.  I don’t need anybody hearing whatever it is you want to talk about.” 

            She slumped her shoulders, sighing dramatically. “Chef,” she whined, drawing out the ‘e’.

            He shot her a look, prompting a quick, “Fine.”

            Of all the years she had worked there, she felt that hour took the longest.  Alexis had never shoved the other workers out of that building faster. She even promised most of them she would finish their side work for them. 

            Siebold was fully aware of what she was doing, but was powerless to stop her.  If she wanted to be there until one in the morning that was her deal.

            Once they were the only two in the building, Alexis dashed into his office, leaving him to follow. 

            “Pop a squat, Siebold!”  She said from his chair. 

            “Get out of my chair,” he deadpanned.

            She shook her head.  “Just let me have my fun!” 

            Sighing in defeat, he sat in the chair across his desk.  “Let’s get this over with,” he grumbled. 

            She laughed at him.  “So, I said I wanted to offer some counseling, right? I may not be licensed, but I like to think I have a little more experience in life than you do since I’m older.”

            “Are you sure you’re not still in Unovan high school?”  He asked, leaning on his left arm. 

            Shrugging off the comment, she continued. “Can I be point blank with you? Like, say the number one thing on my mind, and maybe you not get mad at me?” 

            “I won’t make any promises.” He leaned back, crossing his arms.

            Alexis figured that would be the closest thing to “yes” she was going to get out of him.  “I’m really thinking that you and Jean need to…take a break,” she carefully picked her words, not wanting to invoke any yelling from him.

            “I actually already…broke up with him.”

            Her eyes went wide.  For a moment, she was at a loss for words. She had anticipated this part of her counseling session taking far longer than that.  “Really?”  She asked, before shaking her head.  “Are you okay? I know that was a long relationship.” She asked. 

            “That relationship has been over for years. I allowed myself to only feel comfort in the routine and predictability of it all.   It’s only now that I’m allowing myself to realize that.”

            She scratched her neck.  “Is that the only reason?” 

            He looked away as he answered her. “Maybe I’m remembering what it’s like to actually be interested in someone.” 

            Her lips twitched into a smile, but it quickly disappeared.  “What are you going to do about Jean working here, though?” 

            Siebold sighed, looking away from her. “I’m honestly not sure. I’m terrified of that outcome.”

            She was silent for a moment. “Do you want me to fire him?”

            He tried to back out, but she wouldn’t let him. “Siebold, I’m a manager. I can do that kind of thing. Just because you’re the owner doesn’t mean you have to do everything.  I’ve fired a few people in my days.  If it would take any stress off of you, I’ll do it.”

            Siebold fought with himself for a moment, eventually coming to his decision.  “Thank you, Alexis.”

            Her smile returned.  “I’ll have his last paycheck sent to him, and have him removed from the system by the time I leave.  By tomorrow, I’ll let him know he’s been fired.” 

 

 

**Saturday, 28 October 2017. Night.  Hibernal Avenue**

            Chili kept grumbling to himself as he swept the dining area of the bakery. 

            “You know,” Burgundy started, leaning over the counter, “I don’t know why you’re grumbling so much.  I managed to convince my parents to stay away for an extra week. You could at least show a little gratitude…”

            Chili stopped his sweeping, walking over to her. “Look, I’m thrilled about that. More than I can say. I’m just pissy that Cress keeps ditching us.”

            She blinked, shaking her head. “Who knows?  Maybe he has a petit copain?” 

            The second he heard that, he realized she knew something. “Ya’ know, when you give me a question like that, I can’t help but think you know something?”

            She shook her head again.  “I was just making a suggestion.  Why else would he leave so much?  He hates the cold.  Only love would make a person act so stupid.” 

            Chili only narrowed his eyes.   Leaning the broom against one of the display cases, he leaned against the counter. 

            “I’ve noticed something,” he stated.

            “What?”

            “How you phrase things.  You like to harp on me for certain grammar rules in French, but you do a weird thing that I know is incorrect –I asked Cilan!”

            She withheld a laugh, giving him a look that said, “This is going to be good.”

            “You say ‘petit copain’ _and_ ‘petit amie’.  Normally, you would just say one or the other depending on the part of Kalos you grew up in, and the spelling is different for either referring to a boy or girl. You, however, use ‘copain’ to refer to guys, while ‘amie’ to refer to girls.”  Leaning in, he added, “We live in a society that defers to male and female relationships. How would you know to use ‘copain’ with Cress unless you knew something?”

            He watched the color drain from her face as she struggled with an answer.  “H-he obviously told me beforehand he has an interest in men!” 

            “Funny, because me and Cilan don’t even know that.”

            The shit-eating grin on his face was pissing her off.  “Apple Of The Earth,” she admitted.        

            “What?” 

            “Apple Of The Earth!”  She snapped.  “He’s been spending all of the time with the chef there!  How do you think he’s been feeding you two so well?”

            “Wait, wait… _what?”_ He restated. 

            She sighed before repeating what Cress had told her.

            “I’m gonna go find that idiot. Why wouldn’t he just tell us? That’s really suspicious that he wouldn’t tell us?  What is he _really_ doing with that guy?  I need answers!”  He ranted, pacing around the dining room. 

            Just watching him was making Burgundy dizzy. “Mon nounours, I think you need to calm down.”

            He stopped his pacing long enough to say, “I know you’re calling me a teddy bear.  If I wasn’t so pissed right now I’d think it’s really cute, and I’d probably ask to kiss you.”

            Shaking her head, she continued watching him pace around.  “You’re an idiot, but I guess you’re my idiot…”

             

 

 

**Saturday, 28 October 2017. Night.  Apple Of The Earth**

            Cress withheld a sigh, following Alexis around the dining room.  She was nice enough, and he got along with her well, but he knew he would much rather be with Siebold.

            While they ducked into the kitchen to give the caller their order, Cress noticed a different server, Éve, standing off to the side.  She looked completely panicked as she flipped through her booklet. 

            Cress waited for Alexis to finish speaking with the caller before directing her attention to Éve. 

            “Everything okay, Éve?”  Alexis asked, walking over to the girl.  Cress followed, but kept a distance. 

            The other girl frantically looked up at Alexis. “No,” she grumbled. “My table is being awful. Like, I can’t do anything right for them…”

            Alexis always had a carefree air about her, Cress noticed.  However, in that moment, he thought he had never seen her look so serious.  “Morris,” she called to a different server, “Watch Éve’s section,” she ordered. 

            Once the young man was off to the dining area, Alexis returned her attention to Éve.  “Tell me what happened.” 

            Éve nodded.  “I greeted the family, you know, just like you, Siebold, and Talia taught me, took their order –which was horrendously complicated– and brought them their drinks.  They keep griping that I’m taking too long, or that I’m rushing them, and then when their food came out they keep making really shitty remarks about everything; the food, the atmosphere, and the stutter I get when I get really nervous…” Her hands were shaking, and Cress could just barely make out the tears that were building in the corners of her eyes. 

            Alexis shook her head.  “People are awful, and they have no right to be treating you so badly.  Wait here, both of you. I’m going to get Siebold,” she said before heading to the back of the kitchen. 

            Cress gave Éve a sympathetic look. “If it’s any consolation, I know you’re a great server.  Siebold praises you all the time,” he told her. 

            She sniffed, before smiling. “Thanks,” she mumbled.

            Seconds later, Alexis returned with Siebold. “What table?”  He asked, wiping his hands on a cloth. 

            He was out the door the second she told him the table number. 

            Alexis crossed her arms, laughing to herself. “They’re gonna regret coming here,” she spoke. 

            Cress and Éve gave her a questioning look.

            “Siebold does not stand for his servers getting treated poorly.  The customer isn’t always right.  Not here.” She giggled again, keeping an eye on the dining room window. 

            Siebold had already approached the table, and was speaking with the family of five.  The man looked mortified to be speaking with the restaurant’s owner.

            It didn’t take long for the family to get up and leave. 

            Alexis stepped aside to allow Siebold back into the kitchen. 

            “Éve, I am terribly sorry you had to deal with them. Though, take comfort in knowing that they will never be welcomed back here.  I will also make sure to compensate you from any tips that could have been lost from that table.”

            It took Éve a few seconds to respond. “T-thank you, Siebold!”

            Siebold nodded before returning to the back of the kitchen. 

            “Does Siebold protect all of his servers like that?” Cress asked. 

            Alexis nodded.  “Like I said, the customer isn’t always right. If Siebold trusts that his server isn’t lying about getting treated terribly, he has zero qualms about throwing out crappy customers.”

            “The restaurant I used to work at would have _never_ done that,” Éve added. “If the customer told my manager I was giving them bad service, he would punish me without asking a single question…”

            Alexis placed her hand on Éve’s shoulder. “Well, you don’t have to worry about that anymore!”

            For the remainder of the night, as he followed around Alexis, Cress couldn’t help but continue to smile to himself. He loved that he found his first impression of Siebold constantly proved wrong. 

             

 

            “I apologize for keeping you so late,” Siebold spoke, sitting with Cress in his office. 

            Cress shrugged, leaning back in his chair. “It’s no problem. I’m always happy to stay late with you.”

            “Hard to believe you’re officially out of debt,” Siebold continued. 

            “Agreed.  Seems like just yesterday I was stealing from the back of your food truck,” Cress said with a laugh. 

            “Or running from some man,” Siebold added.

            Cress rolled his eyes.  “I think he ripped you off.  There’s no way we owed him anywhere near €1,000. Have I told you that I’m actually staying in his house at the moment?”

            “I don’t believe you have.” He rested his hands on the desk, not believing Cress. 

            Nodding, he continued.  “My brothers and I are friends with his daughter, Burgundy. They’re away on a vacation, and she’s letting us stay with her in exchange for helping her with her family’s bakery.”

            “Working two jobs at once? You’re a busy man.”

            Cress laughed.  “My brother Chili actually does most of the work.  He’s always been the baker of the three of us. Burgundy knows I’ve been coming here, so I just do what I can.  If I’m to be honest, I like being here the most, though,” he said, testing the water.

            Siebold smiled in response, but said nothing.

            Cress wanted to continue the conversation, but wasn’t sure of what to say.  Instead, his mind kept wandering back to the previous week. 

            Siebold’s eyes wandered towards the clock on the wall.  It was getting late, and he was getting sick of sitting around his restaurant.  “May I ask a somewhat bold question?”  He asked, refocusing on Cress.

            “Of course,” he answered.

            “I would like to make you dinner, but I am tired of being here.  Would you like to come over to my house so that I may make us a proper meal?” 

            Cress could feel the warmth flooding into his cheeks.  “I would love nothing more,” he answered. 

            With a nod, Siebold stood, and began the process of completely closing the restaurant.  Cress waited by the doorway for Siebold to return. 

            Siebold stepped out ahead of Cress, leaving him to get the final light.  His fingers lingered on the switch as the other man turned to say something.

            “I don’t know if you know how genuinely happy it made me to see you return tonight,” he spoke. 

            The words surprised Cress. He chuckled as he flipped the switch. “I told you last week, I’ll always return to you,” he said, closing the door behind him. 

            He stood in front of Siebold, waiting for something –anything.  Though, he was beginning to worry that he might have to take the initiative.

            Siebold, again, turned away. “I’m not kissing you in the back ally of my restaurant.  That’s hardly fitting.”

            Cress rolled his eyes, catching up to walk beside him. 

            “But you admit that you wanted to,” he jabbed.

            “Oh, hush,” Siebold grumbled.

 

 

 

 

            Hours later, with dinner and wine long behind them, Cress awoke in the middle of the night, in Siebold’s bed. There was enough moonlight flooding into the room for him to see, but he found his senses to be disoriented.

            Touch was the first thing he could register. There was an arm around him, but he didn’t have to take any guesses as to who it was.  He distinctly remembered falling asleep with Siebold.

            Siebold had given him a wine tasting to help figure out which he liked best.  Like Siebold, he ended up only favoring dessert wines.  While he might have indulged a bit in the wine, he knew he didn’t drink to excess like Siebold seemed to think.  Though, he wasn’t going to complain about Siebold treating him extra carefully. 

            He tried to be subtle about his movements, not wanting to wake up Siebold as he snuggled closer to him.  He was unsuccessful in doing so. 

            Siebold stretched out his free arm before placing his arm back around Cress, protectively.  “Trouble sleeping?”  He whispered.

            “Sort of,” he answered, rolling over to face Siebold, who was still half asleep. 

            “Anything I can do for you?” He asked. 

            “You being here is enough,” Cress answered, stretching out his arm.  But the second his hand was in the air, he felt Siebold flinch.  It broke his heart to see how carefully Siebold watched his hand.

            He carefully brought his hand back down, gently placing it on Siebold’s cheek.  “I’m so sorry he hurt you.” 

            Siebold gave a one armed shrug. “I told you, it was a training accident.” 

            “I promise, you don’t have to lie to me. Many of the homeless people I’ve met over the years were homeless due to spouse abuse.” 

            Siebold sighed through his nose. “I deserved it, Cress. I’m just an awful person.”

            Cress trailed his hand down to the other man’s arm. “Nobody deserves this,” he said, ghosting his fingers over the remaining bruises.  “Nobody deserves to be hurt by someone who promised they loved you. And you are not an awful person. Nobody would have helped me like you have.” 

            He couldn’t get a full read on what Siebold was thinking.  But he knew this was a situation that wouldn’t just change overnight.  It would take a long time to mend the wounds Jean had created.

            If Siebold let him, he would stick with him every step of the way.

            “I don’t know,” Siebold began, “Forcing you to wash dishes, and then train you as a server just to keep you out of my jealous ex-boyfriend’s sight…that’s not exactly something a nice person would do.”

            Cress laughed, bumping his forehead against Siebold’s.  “None of that really matters.  In my mind, there’s only one thing you’ve ever done to hurt me.”

            “Which is…?”

            “When you didn’t kiss me last week.” He could just barely make out the tinge of color that was tinting his cheeks.

            “Right…I apologize,” he mumbled.

            A couple seconds of silence passed them before Cress laughed.  “I’m giving you permission to make up for it now, if you want,” he invited.

            Siebold shook his head.  “Jean took advantage of me more times than I care to remember when I had been drinking.  I refuse to do the same to you.” 

            “I’m not drunk,” he pouted.

            “That’s something a drunk person would say,” Siebold jabbed. 

            Cress continued pouting.  “Think back to last week, and ask yourself if this is really something I wouldn’t consent to.” 

            “Ask me again in the morning.”

            Cress sighed, snuggling down into Siebold’s neck. “You’re such a pain,” he mumbled. He heard Siebold’s laugh rumble in his chest.

            Siebold knew he was going to wake up to his arm being completely asleep, and maybe even a little sore himself. But as he slowly drifted back off to sleep, his last thought was about how safe he finally felt.

            In the morning, the two ended up in the exact position they had fallen asleep in.  Siebold’s arm was completely numb, but that hardly mattered. 

            He sat up, waking Cress up in the process.

            “Morning,” Siebold simply spoke, rubbing his arm until he regained feeling. 

            Cress remained in his spot, stretching his arms above his head.  “Okay, maybe sleeping like that wasn’t our best decision.” 

            Siebold laughed in response. “Do you remember my offer from last night?”  He asked.

            Cress was hesitant to answer. While talking over wine last night, Siebold had offered him a permanent job.  He was terrified that he might have changed his mind.  “Yes,” he answered. 

            Siebold stood, stretching out his arm some more. “Good, then I don’t have to re-explain everything over breakfast.  Do you accept?” He asked. 

            When he looked to Cress, the pure look of shock surprised him. 

            “You were serious?” 

            “Of course.  I didn’t have nearly enough wine to where I would start making strange offers,” he joked. 

            Sliding off Siebold’s side of the bed, he forced himself to stand in front of him.  “Then…yes!” 

             “It won’t be easy,” Siebold warned.  “I intend to cross train you as a server, as well as a chef.”

            Cress could hardly contain his excitement. “I wish I could properly convey my gratitude, Siebold,” he said. 

            Siebold grabbed his hand, walking with him down to the kitchen.  “You don’t have to thank me.  I’ll pay for your Kalosian License as well, so you have a more update license.  I’m more than happy to pay for your brothers’ as well,” he offered.

            Cress let go of his hand, planted in his spot at the kitchen entryway.  “Siebold, I don’t want you to think I’m just leeching off you for your money. I can use whatever I make to pay for that.” 

            “Nonsense,” Siebold countered, “The fee is roughly €300 per license. It makes much more sense for me to just pay the fee for you three upfront.”

            “I don’t see how,” Cress mumbled.

            Siebold picked up the jacket he had abandoned on the counter, looking it over as a distraction.  “I can rationalize it much easier in my own mind than I can aloud. Let me do this for you.”

            “You’ve already done _so much_ for me already…”

            “You act as though there is a limit to my kindness,” Siebold pointed out. 

            Cress shrugged.  “I guess I’m just used to people’s kindness having an extent. I just don’t want you over-extending yourself.  If that is not in your budget, please, don’t force it to be.” 

            “I never make monetary offers unless I’ve mentally gone over my budget.  It will be no problem, I assure you.” 

            Cress didn’t know what to say. He smiled, fighting for words, but instead found tears building at the edge of his eyes.  “Siebold Narcisse, I believe you might have just made me the happiest man in Lumiose.”

            Siebold returned the smile. “I intend to do that as much as I can for as long as you’ll allow.”

            Once they had finished the breakfast Siebold prepared, Cress got ready to take his leave.  Siebold told him to meet him at the restaurant at three, so they could get him in the system, and to bring his brothers. While Cress dreaded that part, because it would mean he would finally have to explain everything to them, he told himself he would figure out how to go about it on the way back to the southern boulevard.  

            Walking Cress to the door, Siebold leaned in to finally kiss him. 

            The sound of a key being inserted into the door stopped him.  His heart was sent racing as the door opened.

            “Well, isn’t this interesting,” Jean commented, standing in the doorway. 

            Cress wasn’t sure if it was the cold air, or Jean’s presence that sent a shiver up his spine. 

            “You have a lot of explaining to do, Siebold,” Jean hissed. 

            Siebold dug his fingers into his palm. “I’ll see you later, Cress,” he spoke, not looking at him. 

            Cress could feel the tension in the air, and quickly took his leave.  Though, as he hurried down the steps, he couldn’t help but feel worried about leaving Siebold alone with Jean.  “Please, keep Barbaracle near you,” he mumbled to himself. 

            Jean turned, watching Cress turn the street corner. He smiled as he looked back to Siebold. “You can’t throw me out so easily, Siebold.  I have a key to every door in your life.” 

            The reminder alone made him feel sick.

           “So,” Jean continued, “why is that rat in your house?  I have plenty of ideas, but I’d rather hear what you have to say.”

            Once again, Siebold found himself getting backed into the loveseat.  He refused to have a repeat of their last encounter.  “I don’t have to explain myself to you, Jean,” he spat. 

            Jean gave him an incredulous look. “But I do believe you owe me one. I just want to know why my love would just abandon me one night with no explanation?” 

            His tone was so calm it felt out of place.

            “Stop doing that,” Siebold grumbled, making sure he was backing away to the kitchen.  If he could allow himself to get cornered there, he could grab his jacket, and Clawitzer’s poké ball. 

            “Stop doing what?”  Jean raised his hands in defense. 

            “That thing you do where you make me the bad guy! Y-you’ve abused me long enough.”       

            “Oh, my love, I would never intentionally hurt you! You just weren’t listening! You left me with no choice. You just wouldn’t stop hanging around that child.  It was disgusting!”

            Siebold stopped in the entryway. “Remind me who was 25 hitting on a 16 year old?” He reminded.  “Remind me who is 8 years older than me?  Cress is 17, almost 18.  I’m 20. Who’s the real disgusting one?”

            Jean sighed.  “You’ve always been so particular on details. Besides, I never asked how old he was. You just admitted that you’ve been around him too much.” 

            Siebold was about at his wits end. Jean would talk him in circles all day if he let him.  “Go away, Jean. I don’t know how much clearer I can make it to you.  We’re done. You’re fired.  Stay out of my life.”

            He watched as Siebold flinched when he put his arms out.  “I think you’re just a little confused right now, is all.”

            Out of defense, Siebold shoved him away once he had gotten too close.  In an instant, something had snapped within Jean.  The look in his eyes was terrifying. 

            “You’ve made a big mistake,” he said through gritted teeth. 

            Siebold stood tall.  He wasn’t sure what exactly came over him in that moment, but he found himself with enough confidence to fight back.  “The only mistake I have made was not listening to my father by letting you into my life.  The only mistake I made was telling my father to piss off when I would go see you. The only mistake I made was letting a grown man groom me into his plaything.”  His entire body was shaking, but he refused to let Jean get the better of him again.  “Because, maybe, if I hadn’t gotten so bitter towards him because of you, he just might still be alive.”

            Jean laughed.  “What are you hoping to accomplish, Siebold? Yeah, I might have groomed you to be with me.  I might have conditioned you to the idea.  But who else do you have in your life?  Tell me. You left Diantha behind. She never comes to see you. I’m surprised she even showed up to your parents’ funeral.  You isolated yourself from all of your extended family.  Cress probably only likes you for your money.  He’s a lazy homeless person.  He just wants an easy way out, and you have “sucker” written right across your forehead.  _I’m_ _the only one who can fill your void, Siebold_.”

            Siebold’s stomach was in knots. He didn’t want to believe anything Jean was saying. 

            “But don’t worry.  I’ll be waiting for you to realize your little venture with Cress is pointless.  I’ll come back to pick up the pieces of your shell once he’s gone.  You’ll see I’m right.”  He began to walk away, leaving Siebold standing in the kitchen. “Like I always am!” He voice echoed in the empty house.

            Leaning against the wall, Siebold slid down until he was seated on the floor.  Staring blankly at the opposite wall, he couldn’t escape the crippling fear that was consuming him. 

            The fear that Jean _was_ right. 

.

.

.

 


	13. Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

 

 

**Sunday, 29 October 2017.  Morning. Vernal Avenue.**

 

            Iris and Cilan sat on a bench, watching Chili and Pansear pace around.  “Chili, we’ve been walking up and down this street all night,” Iris said with a yawn.  “Cress isn’t here.”

            Chili and Pansear stopped, looking at her.  “Burgundy said–“

            “Burgundy is full of shit!” Iris interrupted.

            Chili had to clench his fists to try to contain his anger.  “Burgundy said he was at Apple Of The Earth.  I saw him leaving last night!  With that guy! But I came back to get you guys, and I forgot which house they went into,” he finished. 

            Iris kept a straight face as she cursed at him in French. 

            “I understood that!” He yelled, Pansear imitating him.

            Cilan stared at the two, too tired to join the arguing.  Lolling his head to the side, he looked up the street.  To his surprise, walking their way was Cress. 

            “Cress!” He said, standing up.

            Chili’s attention was immediately diverted. 

            Cress, surprised to hear his own name, snapped his attention away from the pavement below him. Seeing his brothers and Iris sent his heart racing.  Before he could say anything, Chili was already marching over to him. 

            “You have so much explaining to do!”  He yelled.

            Cress felt his heart sink.

            “Burgundy told me everything!”

            His heart sank again. He forced the feeling down, trying to keep a level head while Chili began yelling at him. 

            “Where have you been? Where have you _really_ been?  Well, I know you’ve been at Apple Of The Earth, but what were you _really_ doing there?  What’s this about a debt?  How were you really paying it off?  You weren’t selling yourself were you?”

            All the wild insinuations being thrown at him caused color to flood into Cress’s cheeks. “Chili, would you give me room to speak?”

            Cilan and Iris placed themselves in between Chili and Cress.  “Chili, calm down,” Iris spoke. 

            He didn’t calm any, but he at least remained quiet enough to let Cress speak. 

            “Now,” Cilan began, facing Cress, “Lets start with ‘What were you really doing there?’”

            Cress nodded. “Well, if Burgundy told you correctly, I ran into her father awhile back, shortly after stealing from that food truck…” He could see the look of disbelief on their faces as he explained.

            “Why wouldn’t you tell us?” Iris asked. 

            “I didn’t want you three to worry.  I didn’t want any extra unnecessary stress added to our situation.”

            “We would have understood,” Cilan added. 

            Cress wasn’t sure what to say to that.  “I’m sorry. A lot has happened while working there. A lot of good things. I’ll explain it all if you’ll give me enough time to.”

            “You fucking better,” Chili grumbled. 

            As they began making their way back to the southern boulevard, Cilan had another question. “I’m going to make an assumption here, so I’m sorry if I’m wrong.  Why were you with Siebold last night?” 

            Cress kept his gaze ahead of them, but a smile made its way on his face.  “That would be spoiling part of my story, now wouldn’t it?”

 

 

 

            Sitting in the dining area of the bakery, the brothers, Burgundy, and Iris all stared at Cress in disbelief. His synopsis had been brief at best, but he tried to include every major point he could think of.

            Burgundy leaned back in her chair, mumbling something in French. 

            “Right?” Iris agreed, sitting next to her.

            Cilan was completely bewildered, but refused to show it.  Chili was the opposite. 

            “You’re fuckin’ a rich guy?” Chili asked. 

            Cress’s face went red while everyone else began laughing at his expense.  “No such thing has happened!”

            “Then why were you there last night?”  Chili again asked.

            “I told you! He made me dinner, offered me a job, and I stayed the night with him.  Yes, I am attracted to him, but nothing has happened so far. Jean showed up, and I had to get out of there.” 

            Chili wasn’t satisfied. “But–”

            “Ferme la bouche!” Burgundy hissed at him.  “You said you had to be at Apple Of The Earth at three, oui?”  She asked, directing the question at Cress. 

            Cress nodded.

            “Well, there’s a slight flaw in that plan…Chili already has his trainer’s license…”

            Everyone looked at Chili, who was looking at Burgundy.  “No? I don’t?” 

            She nodded. “Remember the other week when I had you sign that one paper ‘as a joke’?” 

            He nodded slowly.

            “That was actually a mail-in license application.  I paid the fee for you, and filled everything else out.  It was approved, and now all we have to do is go get your picture taken.”

            “Burgundy! I told you no a million times!”

            She shrugged. “Oops!”

            Cilan looked back to the group. “Well, do you think…maybe Iris could take Chili’s spot then?” 

            “I feel like Siebold wouldn’t mind.”

            Silence followed, but it wasn’t unsettling like it usually was.  A sense of peace had fallen over the group.  For the first time ever, they saw the light at the end of the tunnel.

 

 

 

 

**Wednesday, 15 November 2017.  Hibernal Avenue.**

 

            It had been a few weeks since Burgundy last saw the boys’.  She had gone with them to receive their licenses, but once her parents returned from their vacation, they had disappeared. 

            Chili promised he would see her again, sealing the promise with a kiss. 

            Even though she knew he was far better off now that he had a license, she still couldn’t stop herself from worrying about him. 

            The door to the bakery opened as she was taking a loaf of bread up to the front of the store. “Bonjour,” she greeted out of habit.

            Her mother took the bread from her, letting her go tend to their customer.  “Comment-allez–” the words died on her tongue the second she registered who was standing in front of her.  “Chili!” 

            He smirked at her.

            It was the sharpest she had ever seen him.  His clothes were new, and his hair was freshly cut.  He looked almost like a different person. 

            “Hey, B,” he said.

            Burgundy’s mother peered around the display case, trying to see who was speaking with her daughter.

            “What are you doing here?” She asked, trying to discreetly shoo her mother away with her hand. 

            “I came to ask you something,” he told her. 

            “Which is?” She prompted, not successful in getting her mother to leave. 

            “I want to take you on a date,” he said. 

            She paused for a moment, her mother’s face showed enough surprise for the two of them. “Burgundy,” her mother began, “Qui est-ce?”

            “C’est mon ami, Chili,” she quickly answered, before quietly asking her to leave.  Taking the hint, her mother giggled to herself, heading to the back of the kitchen. 

            Refocusing on Chili, she leaned on the counter.  “So, you leave me for a few weeks, and just come back to ask me out on a date?”

            He nodded. “Pansear and I have been battling competitively, and we’ve saved up quite a bit of money. I want to take you on an actual date. I know one date won’t make up for everything you’ve done for me and my brothers, but hey, I gotta start somewhere, right?” 

            She shook her head and rolled her eyes.  “You’re hopeless.” She turned to go speak with her mother. Looking over her shoulder, she added, “You better not bore me.” 

            Her footsteps glided over the floor, approaching the kitchen.  “Maman,” she began, quietly. 

            Her mother looked to her, pulling her champagne hair out of her face. 

            “May I take the rest of the day off?” She asked, in French.

            Her mother raised an eyebrow, forcing Burgundy to continue. 

            “I know you and father don’t approve, but I really like him.  I have for awhile now.  He’s not much of a street rat anymore, and-“ the sound of her mother giggling stopped her.

            “Go on. You don’t have to keep listening to your father.  I’ll talk him down.”

            The simple words left Burgundy momentarily speechless.  She anticipated a long, drawn out conversation with her.  “M-merci!”

            She hurried back to the font before her mother could think about changing her mind.  Grabbing her coat off the wall hook, she rejoined Chili. Once out the door, she slipped her hands into his.  “Alors, you better not fail to impress me,” she teased. 

            He squeezed her hand. “I was actually looking to make this the worst date of your life.”

            Ignoring the comment, she decided to ask, “What are your brothers and Iris doing now?”

            “Cilan and Iris are traveling together.  Last I heard, they’re heading out to Laverre City to find our old foster parents. Cilan’s hoping to get our birth certificates and things like that from them.” 

            “And Cress?”

            “Where do you think?” Chili asked. 

            “Siebold?” She assumed.

            He nodded in response.   “He’s been ‘accidentally staying too late’ with him for the past few weeks.” 

            Burgundy laughed. “He’s hopeless.”

            Chili shrugged. “He’s happy.” 

 

 

 

**Tuesday, 5 December 2017.  Night. Apple Of The Earth, Lumiose City.**

 

            The sound of a plate falling to the ground hardly registered with Grant and Alexis as they cleaned the dining room.  Plates being dropped were nothing new.  It was just a thing that came along with foodservice. 

            It was the yelling that accompanied it that caught their attention.  Siebold and Cress were supposed to be the only ones in the kitchen, and the voice didn’t belong to either of them. 

            The second plate that crashed against the kitchen door panicked the two. 

            Exchanging a look, the two abandoned their things, rushing back to the kitchen. 

            “You’re a fucking idiot, Siebold!”

            Alexis’s heart stopped when she recognized the voice of Jean.  He held two plates in his hands while Siebold stood close to them, clutching his left arm. 

            “You actually hired the damn rat?  He’s going to drain you of all your money, and you won’t even let me protect you from it!” He swung the plates around, ignoring Grant and Alexis. 

            Through gritted teeth, Siebold responded, “You’ve never once protected me!” 

            Jean responded by chucking another plate at him. 

            Grant and Alexis yelled for him to stop, narrowly dodging the misaimed plate. 

            “Stay out of it!” Jean spat.  The next plate he threw hit Siebold once more.

            His resulting grunt in pain was more than enough for Alexis.  “Slaking, get him the hell out of here!” 

            The pokémon she released let out a horrendous growl, knocking things out of his way as he rushed Jean.

            Too scared to move, Jean remained in his spot. 

            Slaking stopped in front of him, towering over him.  He bared his fangs and snorted in his face, taking small steps until he backed Jean out of the building. 

            Alexis followed behind her pokémon, leaving Grant to tend to Siebold. 

            “Are you alright?” He asked, helping Siebold stand.

            Siebold could only let out a slew of French curses. 

            “I’m so sorry. I should have been back here,” Grant apologized. 

            Siebold shook his head. “You couldn’t have known,” he grumbled, finally letting go of his arm.  While his uniform protected his arm from any cuts, it didn’t protect him from all damage.  He could still move his hand, but just barely. 

            “Where’s Cress?” Granted asked, taking a step back from Siebold. 

            Looking around, Siebold was unsure of the answer.  There weren’t a lot of places to get away in the kitchen.  The only place he could think of was dry storage. 

            Before he could make the suggestion, Cress carefully walked out from the dry storage area.

            Siebold let go of the sigh he was holding onto. 

            “You okay, Cress?” Grant asked, looking between the two.

            Cress nodded, not saying a word. 

            “C’mon, Slaking!” Everyone’s attention turned to the back door. 

            Alexis stepped back in, digging her phone out of her pocket.  “I’m calling the cops on that piece of–”

            “Please don’t,” Siebold interrupted.

            She gave him an incredulous look.  “Siebold, he came in here even though he was fired, wrecked inventory, and, oh you know, _hurt you_.  And I’m getting the sense this isn’t the first time this has happened…”

            Grant nodded in agreement. “I’m going to have to agree with her, Siebold.” 

            He shook his head. “No.  That is final.  I don’t want any additional attention to this.”

            “Siebold–”

            “ _That is final, Alexis_.”

            She stared at him, not sure of what to do.  Against everything she stood for, she eventually slipped her phone back into her pocket. “Go home, Siebold,” she said. “Grant and I will take care of everything from here.”  She didn’t bother looking to him for confirmation.  He would agree.

            “I will be fine, I just need to–” Pain shot through his arm as he moved it. 

            “Siebold Narcisse, you will go home right now, and you will not come back until you are feeling okay. I don’t care that you’re the owner of this restaurant.  I’m sending you home, dammit.   _That’s_ final.”  

            It was a rare sight to see her serious.  Never before had he seen her angry.  For a moment, it didn’t feel like Alexis yelling at him.  It felt like his father.

            “Fine,” he spat.

            Heading to his office, he ripped his jacket off the back of his chair, not waiting for Cress to follow him out the door. 

            Cress stood in the back doorway, unsure of what to do.  “Maybe I’m just nothing but trouble for you,” he mumbled to himself.

            “I should have known!” He heard Alexis yell.

            Looking over his shoulder, he saw her gripping the side of a prep station.  “I should have known that asshole was abusive! There’s no way this was the first time!” She fell to her knees, unsure of what to do.  “I failed Siebold, and I failed James.  _I should have known_ …All the signs were there, but I just didn’t want to believe it…”

            Grant kneeled down beside her, unsure of how to address the situation.  Placing a hand on her back, he said a few things, but Cress couldn’t hear. 

            Stepping out into the cold night, Cress headed for the main road.  Vernal Avenue was silent.  The only person on the sidewalk was Siebold, who was well ahead of him.

            Looking at the ground, Cress sighed, watching his breath make a cloud around him.  Shrugging his coat on, he made the last second decision to go the other way.  He didn’t think it would be a good idea to be around Siebold at that moment, despite how much he wanted to.

            He could handle staying at the pokémon center for a night or two. 

 

 

 

            Walking up the steps of his house, Siebold finally looked around him.  When he noticed that Cress was nowhere to be found, his heart sank. He grumbled to himself, sliding his key into the lock.  However, he found that the door wasn’t locked; something he never failed to do.

            Pulling a minimized poké ball out of his pocket, he slowly walked into his house. 

            Paintings had been pulled off the wall and porcelain and glass shards covered his floor. The further he got into his house, the worse the mess.  There was a consistency with the mess, though.  It was all his things, and none of the leftover things from Jean. 

            Again, he no longer felt safe in his own home. 

            Releasing Blastoise, he headed down to the living room and sat on the couch, unsure of what to do.

            His pokémon stood in front of him, giving him a worried look.  He was cautious of his steps as he leaned in to nuzzle his trainer.

            Siebold placed a hand on the side of Blastiose’s face. 

            “What should I even do, Blastoise?”  He asked.

            The turtle pokémon gave a small grumble, as if saying, “I don’t know”. 

            Looking up, the stone around Blastiose’s neck caught Siebold’s attention.  The person it made him think of was maybe the only person he could be around at this point. 

            Pulling his phone out of his jacket pocket, he searched through the contacts for a number he hadn’t dialed in a long time. 

            Hitting her name, he stood up, putting the phone on speaker. 

            Blastiose stayed in his spot, watching Siebold go upstairs. 

            He sat the phone on the counter so he could dig around his medicine cabinet.  He needed something for his arm before he could even think about cleaning up Jean’s mess.

            _“Your call has been forwarded to an automated voice message system.”_

            Siebold hit end before it could prompt him to leave a voicemail. 

            He waited until he had taken some medicine before trying again.  Luckily, she had picked up by the second ring. 

_“My dear Siebold!”_

            “Diantha,” he calmly greeted.

            There was a pause filled with the sound of shuffling papers on her end.  _“I just got out of a script meeting, so you timed this perfectly!  How are you?”_

“I’m well.  I have a question for you.” 

            _“What might that be, my dear?”_

            “I was wondering if you would join me for an early lunch tomorrow.”

            Another pause. _“Is everything alright?”_

            He thought for a second to lie. To lie and say that everything was fine, and that he just missed her company.  However, he decided against it.  “No,” he admitted. 

            _“I know it’s late, but do you need me to come over now? I am more than willing to tell Kathi Lee to cancel my morning meeting, and anything else I have tomorrow for that matter.”_

            “Your career is important, Diantha.”

            _“…I’ll be over shortly.”_

           

           

           

 **Thursday, 7 December 2015.** **75010 Vernal Avenue**

 

            It had taken everything in Cress to motivate himself to go back to Siebold’s home.  Standing in front of the door, it took twice the motivation to bring himself to unlock the door. 

            The house was quiet, but he could feel the presence of someone. 

            A low hum caught his attention.

            Peering around the corner to look in the kitchen, a pokémon that he knew didn’t belong to Siebold was staring at him: a Gardevoir. 

            He remained silent, unsure of what to do or say. 

            Gardevoir simply stared at him, making no movement one way or another. 

            “Gardevoir!”

            Gardevoir broke eye contact with Cress, looking up the stairs. 

            A petite woman strode down the stairs, hardly making a sound in her decent.  “Can you– Oh!”  She stopped, taking notice of Cress.  “Hello!” She greeted, her voice just as attractive as all her films.  “I didn’t expect to meet you today!”

            Cress looked at her, lost on what to say.  For a moment, he wondered if he was in the correct house.  To be in her presence, surly he had to be. 

            But his key had worked.

            She carried on, not batting an eyelash at his silence.  “I assume you’re the Cress I’ve heard so much about?” 

            “Y-yes, Madame Ruston.”

            She giggled at her surname, Gardevoir making similar gestures. “Oh, dear, you may call me Diantha. I’m not one for such formalities,” she told him. 

            He nodded in response.

            Asking Gardevoir to finish what she was doing upstairs, she invited Cress to sit with her at the table. “You’ll have to excuse Siebold. I made the mistake of mentioning food, and he stepped out to run to the store.  He should be back soon.” 

            Sitting in front of her, he figured he should ask the main question on his mind.  “I bed your pardon for asking this, but why you are here?” Cress asked, taking in the beauty of the actress.  Not even in his wildest dreams did he imagine he would be sitting across from her, much less actually talking to her. 

            She giggled again. “I assume dear Siebold never told you that he and I have been friends since we were children?”

            Cress shook his head. “I hadn’t the slightest idea.”

            She gave an amused puff. “I suppose I shouldn’t have expected anything else.  He doesn’t like delving into her personal life too much.”

            “Oh, trust me. I am fully aware of that.”

            Silence followed, giving Cress a moment to look around them.  One of the shelves was missing all of the porcelain and glass decorations. Books were out of order, and some of the pictures that weren’t missing had cracks in their glass. 

            “What happened?” He asked, eyeing the books. Siebold was completely anal-retentive about them being in alphabetical order.  To see them not in order unnerved Cress. 

            “Jean Lucien happened.” The way she spat his name with such animosity led him to believe that she shared his views of the man. “It was Tuesday night when Siebold called me.  It’s not often he calls. Even less that he asks for company, so I assumed the worse.  Gardevoir and I have been helping him clean.”

            A guilty pit settled in Cress’s stomach.  “I…I should have been here,” he mumbled. 

            Diantha shook her head. “You were doing what you thought was best, I’m sure.” 

            “I just wish I could have helped in some way.”

            She smiled at him, and for a moment, he found himself enchanted.  “I think you don’t realize the impact you’ve already had on him. Like I said, Siebold and I have known one another since we were children.  I saw the change in him once Jean entered his life.  But now that you’re in his life, well, I’ve noticed a change just after only two days of being around him.” 

            “Was he that much different before Jean?” 

            She hummed in thought. “Well,” she began, standing up. “If you’ll indulge me, I will explain a little more from the beginning.”  She said, walking over to the bookshelf.  She picked up one of the books, flipping through its pages.

            Cress couldn’t tell if she was actually reading the book, or just using it to occupy her hands.

            He nodded for her to continue.

            “From a young age, Siebold and I were practically arranged to be married.  It was never directly stated by either of our parents, but we knew. We spent so much time together. I don’t know that either of us really had any other friends except for one another.  We spent our summers together, and we were always together at family parties. He was always so protective of me…Never possessive!  Just protective. If there was someone I didn’t want to socialize with, he made sure to keep them away.”

            There was such an air of affinity in her voice; Cress wondered is she loved him.  He thought he should feel envious, but he couldn’t bring himself to feel it.  He couldn’t be envious of her. She had so much more to offer Siebold than he could ever hope to. 

            “We never really dated, but we certainly never dated anyone else.  Over time, I came to realize that I didn’t desire a romantic relationship with him.  He _was_ my soul mate, but in the most beautiful, and platonic sense possible.”  She turned to face Cress, keeping the book close to her. 

            There was something in her eyes that told him he didn’t have to worry about anything.

            Diantha laughed to herself, returning her gaze to the text.  “Besides, he and I eventually discovered that we have a strong affinity for the same sex.”

            That was something he didn’t know.  He hadn’t done too much research on the actress.  He knew her most recent film, Hoenn Holiday, had been a hit.  She was also to star in a new movie, My Sweet Lady.

            Maybe it was a piece of information nobody other than Siebold knew.  He couldn’t fathom why she would entrust that information with him of all people. 

            “Anyways,” she continued, “The day of his fourteenth birthday, James, Siebold’s father, had him working in the restaurant.  That’s when Jean entered his life.”  She displayed her displeasure for them man with a scowl.  “I wasn’t mad that Siebold, to some degree, left me because of Jean. I was mad at how Jean was changing him. Siebold was never really one for talking, or being very open about his feelings, but he wasn’t like this. He wasn’t so isolated. He had a general zest for life. He was a painter, as I’m sure you’ve noticed.”  She looked around at some of the paintings on the wall.

            Cress hadn’t realized that Siebold painted them. 

            “He loved cooking. All forms of art he enjoyed, really. He loved his father, and was devastated when his mother walked out on them.  He was so passionate and emotional about things.”  She sighed.  “And Jean killed that.”

            Finally, Cress spoke up. “I don’t think it’s completely dead, Diantha.  The first night he was teaching me how to cook he was extremely patient.  I couldn’t believe the life I saw in his eyes when I got it right. It…made me so happy.” He nervously averted his eyes. Even though he was sure she knew, he was scared to admit how he felt about Siebold to her.

            “He always did love to teach. He got that from his father. They were both quite the gentle giants.”

            “I feel strange in asking you this, but I haven’t gotten a sense of how sensitive of a topic it is for him: how did his parents die?  All I know is you just said something about his mother walking out on them, they’re both no longer with us, and that they’re buried in the northern Lumiose graveyard.”

            She mulled over her answer, sitting back with him at the table.  “I think that’s a question you’ll have to ask him yourself. I don’t know that he would like me telling the story in his place.” 

            He nodded, figuring that was the answer she would give him.  “I’m just never sure of when to bring up the subject.  I mean, I don’t like talking about my own parents’ deaths. I know how sore the subject can be.”

            She nodded in response. “Patience and understanding are going to be key with him, Cress.  I think you’ll find a way to talk to him, though.” 

            As if on cue, the front door opened, Siebold walking in.  “Oh,” he mumbled, looking at Cress.  His shoulders slumped, and he appeared relieved.  “I’m glad you’re here.” 

            He didn’t elaborate on that any further, only asking that he help him in the kitchen. 

            Diantha laughed to herself as she placed the book back on the shelf.  “I like how you don’t even trust me in the kitchen, yet we’ve known one another out whole lives,” she said, following the two. 

            Siebold gave her a pointed look.  “Remind me who burnt those nasty microwave noodles by forgetting to _add water_?”

            Her cheeks went red as she rolled her eyed.  “Siebold, I was thirteen, and it was two in the morning!”  She defended. 

            Cress laughed as they continued to bicker. 

            While helping Siebold prepare lunch, Cress realized how peaceful everything felt.  There was something about having Diantha in their presence that just left an ethereal calm. 

            Had anyone told him at the beginning of the year that he would be standing in the presence of Siebold and Diantha, he would have told them they were mad.             

            Even thinking about it as it was happening, he felt as if he were in some sort of dream. As he stayed home with Siebold for the week once Diantha left, waiting for him to completely heal, and for his house and restaurant to get new locks, it felt like a dream.

            But he never woke up from it.

           


	14. Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

 

**Monday, 25 December 2017. Day. 75010 Vernal Avenue, Lumiose City.**

 

            Cress rolled his eyes, sitting on the couch with Panpour.  “I wish you would stop being so stubborn and just let me in the kitchen,” he said over his shoulder. 

            He could see Siebold’s reflection in the patio glass door.  “Stay out. There’s not much privacy in this house, and I want _something_ to be a bit of a surprise for you.” 

            “You’re making a cake! How much of a surprise can that be?”

            “Stay out.”

            Cress could only laugh, petting Panpour.  He sat in silence, letting the warm smell of cake slowly invade his senses. 

            After about an hour, Siebold finally walked out of the kitchen, done for the time being.

            Sitting next to Cress, he put his arm around him.  Leaning in to kiss him on the cheek, the smell of cake became more evident.

            “Thank you,” Cress said, looking at Siebold. 

            “For what?”

            Cress shrugged. “For everything,” he answered, leaning into him.  Panpour crawled from Cress’s lap to Siebold’s, settling in for a nap. 

            A knock at the door disturbed their silence.  Cress and Panpour were the first to get up.  Siebold stood after him, watching as Cress headed for the door. 

            He stopped a few feet from the doorway before rushing back to Siebold.  “Before that,” he said, pulling the taller man into a kiss. “Let me get that out of the way,” he finished. 

            Siebold laughed to himself. Cress wasn’t one for publicly displaying his affections, but Siebold found it endlessly amusing he even acted that way with his brothers.

            Panpour began squeaking, demanding the door be opened.  Cress hurried back to the door. 

            Without the door even being fully open, he was tackled with a hug from Iris.  “Happy birthday! And Merry Christmas!”  She said. 

            Panpour dashed out the door, greeting Pansage and Pansear on the steps. 

            From the kitchen, Siebold could hear the brothers, Iris, and Burgundy talking with one another.

            He pulled the cake out of the oven, smiling to himself.  Hearing Cress sound so happy made him elated beyond words. 

            Cress was adamant about receiving nothing for his birthday.  He only wanted to see his brothers, but he wasn’t about to just settle for that. Apart from the cake and dinner, he had a few other gifts to give to Cress, his brothers and Iris, later.

 

 

 

            “Oh!  Iris and I haven’t told you, have we?”  Siebold’s attention was drawn to the living room.

            Cilan and Iris looked to one another then to Cress.  “We’ve been battling competitively on our trip around Kalos, and we’ve finally pooled enough money to buy a house of our own!” 

            “That’s incredible you two! Where at?”  Cress asked. 

            “We’ve been looking at Santalune City,” Iris answered. 

            Picking up the cake, deciding that it was appropriately decorated, Siebold walked into the living room. “My friend, Grant, his girlfriend lives there,” he began, taking extra care of his steps. “From what I’ve heard, it’s a very lovely city.” 

            Everyone gathered around as he sat the cake down on the table.  “If you all will wait here one moment,” Siebold said before disappearing upstairs.

            His words were lost on everyone for the most part.  They were too busy admiring the cake. 

            When he returned, he carried with him five small boxes, each coded with a different color bow. “These are from myself and Diantha.”

            “Diantha? Wait, you were serious?” Chili asked, looking to Cress.

            “I wouldn’t lie about meeting Diantha.  I told you she and Siebold were friends.”  He looked to Siebold for confirmation. 

            “Yes. We grew up together. Happy birthday to you three, as well as Merry Christmas.”

            Carefully taking off the bows, the item inside surprised everyone. 

            The brothers received elemental stones for their respective pokémon, as well as what Burgundy and Iris received: a key stone. 

            “Siebold, I-I’m not sure what to say!”  Burgundy was the first to respond. 

            “It’s nothing,” he assured. “Between mine and Diantha’s families, we had spare key stones to give out.  As for mega stones, that is for you and your pokémon to find.”

            Despite what he had said earlier, Cress went against it, leaning up to give Siebold a quick kiss on the cheek. 

            “Shoot! I’ll kiss Siebold, too, man!” Chili responded, unable to look away from the fire stone. 

            Iris and Cilan shook their heads.  “All three of you are such pains,” Iris grumbled. 

            “Don’t even think about it,” Siebold responded. 

           

           

 

 

 

 

            **Sunday, 31 December 2017.  Late Afternoon. North Lumiose City.**

 

            The house, if it could even be called that, Cress wandered around swallowed every possible noise. His footsteps made no sound, and not a breath of air stirred. 

            It felt odd to be wandering aimlessly around Siebold’s childhood home. 

            An offer had finally been made on the mansion, and Siebold wanted to do one final sweep of the house before it was sold. 

            All the dust-covered furniture was to be sold with it, but Cress had talked him into at least making sure there was nothing he wanted of his father’s.  Even if it was miniscule, he didn’t want to watch Siebold beat himself up later for not at least looking. 

            Cress wasn’t even sure what part of the house he was in anymore.  Everything in the house was extravagant, but it quickly lost its charm to him. It all might as well have been the same object. 

            It was completely unlike Siebold’s home, and maybe that’s what made it so strange for him.

            Finally, he ended up back in the grand hallway, leading down to the first floor. 

            Siebold’s room had to be close by. 

            Continuing down the hall, faint noises greeted him.  The sound of drawers being opened and closed became clearer as he got further down the hall.

            Peering into one of the rooms, he saw Siebold sitting on the edge of a bed, a small pile of items next to him. 

            “I honestly can’t remember the last time I was in here,” Siebold spoke, not looking at Cress as he sat next to him. 

            “I imagine coming here isn’t an easy thing to do,” Cress replied. 

            Siebold hummed an agreement. “I’ve yet to actually go in my father’s room.  I haven’t been in there since he died.” 

            Cress wasn’t sure what to say in response. 

            “There are things I need to get out of there, but I just…cant.” 

            “Do you want me to go with you?” 

            Siebold thought it over before standing.  “Yes,” he answered.

            Together, they walked down the hall to a different room.

            Everything remained untouched. The sheets and bedding were still pulled back, and the dresser’s doors remained open. 

            Siebold froze only a few steps into the room.  He clenched and unclenched his fists, trying to keep his composure. 

            “Is there anything specific you want me to grab?”  Cress asked, starting to feel helpless to help him. 

            “Right bedside table. Two luxury balls,” was all he managed.

            Cress dashed to the specified table.  Sitting atop it in a basket were two luxury balls.  It was a strange thing to leave behind, but he figured Siebold had his reason for wanting the items. 

            When he turned around, he noticed that Siebold had finally moved from his spot. 

            Cress joined him at the dresser he was standing in front of.  He watched as Siebold picked up a picture frame. 

            Taking a look, it was a picture of Siebold when he was young with both his parents. Siebold looked very much like his father, but had his mother’s hair and eye color. 

            “It was…selfish, I suppose.” His voice was strained. “I couldn’t handle the thought of being able to look at my father’s pokémon.  I left them here.  I can’t…abandon them again.”

            “I’m sure they’ll understand.”

            Siebold placed the picture down.  “They shouldn’t have to. If only…” he stopped. “I don’t expect them to even like me. It’s _my_ fault my father is dead.” 

            Cress placed his hand on Siebold’s arm.  “Siebold.”

            “I am…”

 

**Friday, 1 January 2015. Afternoon. Outskirts of Lumiose City**

 

            Siebold sat back in his chair, refraining from sighing.  He could barely get a moment’s peace in that house between all of the house staff and his father. All day they had been treating it like it was some grand holiday.  “Father, it is just my birthday.  It’s not that important,” he grumbled, not looking away from the papers spread all across the table.

            His father remained where he was. “Siebold, it’s your eighteenth birthday for Xerneas’s sake.  Let me do something for you.” 

            Forcing himself away from his work, he finally faced his father.  He just wanted a few minutes to himself.  Enough to get his father out of his hair.  “What I want is unreasonable at this time, and I don’t want to put you out like that.”

            His father looked completely baffled at his words. “Siebold, you are my son. You’re not putting me out in any way, shape, or form!” 

            He had taken the bait.  “You know that bakery a block down from Café Soleil?”

            “Of course.”

            “I’ve always favored their cakes.” It was a lie.  They were “okay” cakes at best.  The real bakery he favored was too close to home, and wouldn’t give him enough time to work. 

            “Is that all you want?”  James asked. 

            Siebold nodded.  “Any cake will do.  You know that’s the one thing I’m not picky about.  I’d go with you, but I need to finish this paper if I want to get into that art university.” 

            James smiled.  “Sounds good.  I’ll be back soon, then.”  He grabbed his keys, and was soon on his way out the door.  “I’ll be back in an hour at most!” 

            Siebold gave a half-hearted, “okay,” before resuming his work.  Finally, he had time to work on his paper.  His father was always hinting at him staying at the restaurant, but he had other ideas. While he did love cooking, art and battling were his real passions in life. 

            The hour rolled by, and though he had finished his paper, his father hadn’t returned. 

            James was always terrible at time estimation. Siebold figured that he had just run into some traffic, and would be home soon enough. 

            Another hour had passed, and the house seemed eerily quiet the entire time.  It was beginning to bring his anxiety back to the surface.  Something about the atmosphere reminded him of the day his mother left. 

            He told himself over and over that his father wouldn’t leave.  He had no reason to. He had too much to just leave behind.

            Then again, so did his mother…

            Time moved slowly as he waited for his father’s return.  He wandered through excuse after excuse as to why his father was late. 

            Maybe there was an accident on one of the boulevards and he was stuck in it and his phone was dead, and that’s why it was going straight to voicemail. 

            Maybe he ran into an old friend. After all, his father was very charismatic, and could talk for hours without noticing. 

            Maybe he was called into the restaurant for an emergency. 

            Maybe this.  Maybe that.    

            Maybe.

            Maybe.

            _Maybe_.

            All of the “maybe”s in the world couldn’t have prepared him for the police officers who arrived at his door late that night, informing him that his father had been killed in a car accident.

            He lost his voice.  Every time he opened his mouth to speak, he thought he might puke instead. 

            The next thing he could remember was holding his phone, trying to force himself to call somebody.  His thumb lingered over Jean’s name, but the thought of seeing him made him sick.  There was only one person who could truly comfort him. 

            Hitting her name, he waited for the ringing to end.

            “Siebold!  I haven’t heard from you in forever!  I’m in the middle of a film shoot, but–” 

            “Diantha,” his voice cracked.

            The crack wasn’t just any, and she recognized that. “Where are you?” She franticly asked.

            He could already hear sounds of her moving about, and hushing people around her.  “Home.” His voice again cracked.

            “Stay right where you are. I will be there in a few minutes.”

            He hung up, dropping his phone on the ground. He stared at it until the screen went black, and long after that. 

            He didn’t know how long it was until Diantha arrived.  He would have to go to the hospital soon, but he couldn’t go without Diantha.

            Diantha let herself in, rushing throughout the large house, looking for Siebold.  She found him sitting in the main living room, staring blankly at the floor.

            Running up to him, she was relived to find him physically unharmed.  However, when she placed her hand on his shoulder, he was hardly responsive.  He looked up at her, then returned to staring at the floor, shaking his head. 

            She got down on her knees, placing herself in his view.  “Siebold, what happened?” She asked.  “Where’s your father?” 

            When he looked at her, his eyes began to water, and she knew. 

            Up to that point, Siebold couldn’t have remembered crying harder.  It wracked his whole body, leaving him breathless.  He clung to Diantha, terrified that if he let her go, she might disappear from his life, too.

            Eventually, they made it to the hospital. He hardly remembered getting there. The only thing he was certain of was not losing a second of some form of physical contact with Diantha.

            He was able to identify his father. It was horrifying for Siebold. It was only a few hours ago he had spoken to him.  A few hours ago he had said a half-assed “okay” to get him to leave him alone.

            Now he would be left alone for good.

            Though, as if that wasn’t traumatic enough, the circumstances of his father’s death were even worse.

            He had been hit by another car in one of the intersections on the driver’s side.  They ended up getting a lot of specifics on the other driver.

            Siebold and Diantha didn’t know why they were getting the details of her.  Not until they were told of who she was: his mother. 

            Identifying her was equally, if not more, painful.

            Maybe, along with his parents, a part of Siebold died that day as well.

 

 

 

 

            “Siebold, you had _no idea_ that would happen,” Cress soothed. 

            Siebold was shaking.  “If I had just been adamant on not wanting a damn thing…or maybe if I had gone with him, he would still be alive.” 

            Cress grabbed both Siebold’s hands, helping calm the shaking.  “You can go through as many ‘maybes’ and ‘what ifs’ as you want, but you have to know that it won’t change the past.”  He felt Siebold’s grip tighten.  “I know those words are cheap, and maybe they don’t even help, but I’m here for you. Diantha is here for you. My brothers, Burgundy and Iris, we all care about you.  A lot.”

            Siebold shrugged.  “But because of all of that, I really let Jean control my life. I let him manipulate and use me. I’m an asshole. I have been my whole life. I guess I figured I deserved someone like me.” 

            Using the cuff of his shirt, Cress dabbed at the tear Siebold was desperately trying to blink away.  “Siebold, you deserve so much more than life has thrown at you. You deserve someone who will love you endlessly.  You’re not an ass. You can be,” he jokingly added, “but that’s not who you are.” 

            Siebold laughed through his nose. “I don’t know. Forcing you to wash dishes just to pay off some small debt to me seems like something an ass would do.”

            “Well, yes and no?”  Cress averted his eyes.  “Maybe that’s how we met, but would an ass take some homeless, jobless, person off the street?  Give them a chance at life? Pay for his brothers, and friend, to get their Kalosian Trainer’s License?  You are many things, Siebold Narcisse, but you are not an ass. You know I’ll always be here for you, right?”

            Siebold cracked a faint smile. He let go of Cress’s hands. “Of course.  Let’s get out of here.” 

            Cress kept right by his side.

 

 

 

 

**Wednesday, 10 January 2018.  Noon. Apartment 05 Building W. Santalune City.**

 

 

            Standing inside the mostly empty apartment, Cilan and Iris could only look around them.  The walls were bare, the furniture was at a minimum, and they had nothing extra except what Cress had gifted them. Calling it tiny didn’t cover how small the apartment was.  It could be barely called a one-bedroom apartment, but it was theirs. 

            The feeling of Iris squeezing his hand let Cilan know he wasn’t dreaming.  It let him know that it was real, and they had finally made it.

            “I’m just.” Her voice cracked so she paused.

            He squeezed her hand again for reassurance. 

            “So happy,” she finished, turning to hug Cilan. 

            They stood in the doorway for some time, refusing to let go of one another. 

            “Me too,” he said before giving her a light kiss on the forehead. 

            Finally, they pulled away, walking around their home once more.  He let Iris take the lead, taking delight in her being mesmerized by their basic utilities.  Running water and electricity never seemed more comforting. 

            They stepped out onto the balcony, taking in their limited view of Santalune City. 

            Around them, people were walking with each other and their pokémon.  Their cheerful voices filled the air, giving the two a sense of peace.

            “Iris,” Cilan started, nervous because he hadn’t intended to speak. 

            She looked at him, keeping her grip on the railing. 

            He silently scolded himself. The words that were threatening to come out he wanted to save for a different time.  A more appropriate time.  But seeing the light in Iris’s eyes was making it impossible for him to wait any longer.

            On top of that, he worried his speech impediment might resume control due to how nervous he was. He had rehearsed the lines a million times over, aloud and in his mind, but it could never prepare him for the actual moment.  

            “Sometimes, I thought I would never get to see the day when my life started to…fall together. I also never thought you would be with me if it ever did happen.  But you are here, an-and it makes me happier than I could ever hope to describe.”

            She let go of the railing to face him, grabbing his hands as he offered them. 

            “When you left, a part of me felt lost.  You were my first friend here in Kalos, and you helped me in so many different ways. It was hard losing you, and I honestly don’t know what I would do if it were to ever happen again. I,” he paused, fighting to get the right words out.

            She smiled, avoiding looking at him for a moment to focus on their hands. 

            “I just don’t know that I would want to go the rest of my life without you by my side.” The words instantly made her hear leap and her face go warm.  Even though she was confident in what those words meant, she could only go wide-eyed as he got down on one knee.

            The small, boxed ring he pulled out from his pocket instantly brought tears to her eyes.

            “It’s not the ring I would really like to get you, but I want you to be my wife more than anything else. Will you marry me?”

            She was speechless for a moment.  She wanted to say something, but words refused her.  Instead, she dropped down, throwing her arms around him.  Finally, she was able to say, “Yes!  Of course, yes!” 

.

.

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	15. Epilogue

Epilogue

 

 

**Wednesday, 18 September 2019.  Midafternoon. Laverre City.**

 

            The rapid knocking at the door forced Siebold to his feet.  Diantha had arrived just as soon as her frantic message implied she would.

            “Dear Siebold, I have _so much_ to tell you!” The petit woman tapped on her heels, exemplifying her excitement. 

            Walking with her to the living room, he said, “For once, as do I.”

            Sitting across from one another, Diantha could hardly contain her excitement.  Siebold was going to invite her to speak first, but she spoke before he could even get the first word out.  “They’re starting a Pokémon League here in Kalos!” She told him. 

            That he knew. Grant had turned in his two weeks notice, telling him that he was starting a gym of his own in Cyllage City. It wasn’t exactly what he had been expecting she would bring up, but he could certainly understand her excitement. 

            “They were calling for strong trainers, and I figured, why not?  Right?  I like to think that my pokémon and I make a wonderful team.  My manager thought it would be a great idea, if nothing else, to get a little publicity for my battling abilities!”  She was speaking a mile a minute, but Siebold couldn’t help but be amused by her enthusiasm. 

            “I got my call, went in for a week of battles, and one thing led to another,” she stood up, moving to sit beside him.  Grabbing one of his hands, she said,  “Siebold, they named me the Kalos Region Champion!” 

            He didn’t know what to say. He wanted to congratulate her, but he didn’t feel there were enough words for such an achievement. “Diantha…That’s incredible!”

            She squealed in delight. “I know!  But the best part, I met somebody.”  She giggled as she sprawled out across his lap.

            Looking down at the woman in his lap, he passed an amused breath.  “I would think you would have met a lot of people,” he said dryly.

            “I’m in love,” she continued, covering her face with her hands. 

            “Aren’t you always?” He jokingly asked.

            She playfully tapped the side of his face.  “With an actual person this time.  Not with a piece of cake, a really pretty view, or something else of the sort.” 

            “Man? Woman?  Neither?”  Siebold prompted.

            “She’s the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever met.”  She stared at the ceiling, an air of fondness in her tone he hadn’t heard in years. “She’s the champion of Sinnoh.  She and a couple of the other champions battled with me to make sure I was actually strong enough.”

            He laughed in response, grabbing her hand so she could fiddle with the ring on his. 

            “Her name is Cynthia. You should meet her, Siebold. I think you would adore her.”

            “Sounds like you already adore her enough for the two of us.”

            She rolled her eyes at him, finally sitting up.  “I’m serious. She’s incredible.” She paused for a second to gather her next thought.  “You know when it’s really cold outside, and you step into a warm building, that warm, embrace of relief? She’s much like that.”

            He gave her a pointed look. “Please say that again so you can hear how ridiculous you sound right now.” 

            “Oh, hush. I’m marrying that woman. Mark my words,” she said with a dazed expression. 

            Again, Siebold laughed.

            “If not her, then Steven, Hoenn’s champion.  Because he is a silver-haired dreamboat,” she said, a light flush flooding into her cheeks. Even she realized how ridiculous that one sounded. 

            “Why not marry both of them?” He jokingly added.

            Her eyes lit up and she put her hands over her chest.  “Don’t get my hopes up, dear Siebold.  Don’t think I wouldn’t.” 

            “May I record all of this and play it at your wedding?” 

            She rolled her eyes in her most melodramatic fashion.  “Anyways,” she said, derailing.  “I do think that you should meet everyone, and I…well, I have the opportunity for you to do so.”   Her tone had notably shifted to a much more serious one. 

            “Which is?”

            She looked him in the eye. “I’m now tasked with choosing my elite four, and Siebold, I want you to be the head of it.”      

            He stared at the woman beside him, his mouth agape.  “Diantha.” He had mumbled her names a few times now, but had yet to come up with a proper response. 

            Finally, “Diantha, I can’t. I’m hardly qualified.”

            She pouted her lip. “You and I both know that’s not true. In fact, apart from the other regional champions, you’re the only one who has ever really put up a fight against me.  You’re able to hold your own, and you have a wonderful connection with your pokémon. Blastiose is even able to mega evolve –a feat not accomplished by many!”  She placed her hand on his knee.  “But that’s not the only reason I need you for my elite four.” 

            “What other reason could there possibly be?”  He asked.

            She smiled sweetly at him. “I know you’ll hold me accountable,” she stated. 

            He looked confused.

            She sat back against the armrest, and began to elaborate further.  “The other champions stressed to me that I need someone who will hold me accountable for my actions.  Cynthia has Lucian. Lance has Karen. Steven has Drake. And Alder…okay I tried to stay away from him –Cynthia warned me he would try to flirt with me, but anyways! You’ve always done that in my life. You’re not afraid to tell me that I’m messing up.” 

            He looked like he was about to argue, so she placed a finger up to silence him. “Now, my position as champion won’t exactly run like the other champions.  They’re more governmental figures, and hold power over their region. I’m going to be just a figurehead. Our president and prime minister will obviously hold all the power.  That doesn’t mean I don’t need someone to keep me in check. Siebold, you’re the only one who I believe can do that.  You know me as much as I know myself.  You know when I’m falling into ruts.  You and I have a very mutual relationship.  I honestly think we would make an amazing team.  I’ve met with a few other candidates for my team, but I do not know that I can do this without you.” 

            He let out a long breath, rubbing the back of his neck.  He wasn’t sure of whether to say yes or not.  It was the offer of a lifetime.  “I can’t just leave my restaurant, Diantha.  I’m already working there as little as possible.” 

            “You won’t have to!” She replied.  “Elite four members don’t have to be in the public eye all the time.  In fact, I believe you only have to be active for about one month a year in the league, and whenever we hold conferences and whatnot.  The other leaders and elite four I’ve met would be able to explain it better.” She looked at him with pleading eyes.

            He hated when she did that, because he couldn’t say no to her.  “Fine,” he said in a sigh. 

            She squealed in delight, wrapping her arms around his neck in a tight embrace.  “Thank you, dear Siebold!  Thank you, thank you!”

            He laughed, returning her embrace. 

            “So what is it you have to tell me?”  She asked once she pulled away. 

            He held up his left hand. “You didn’t notice, did you?”

            She studied his hand, jumping when she realized what the ring was that she had been fiddling with. “Oh!  That’s the engagement ring I helped you pick out! You finally proposed! While you two were in Unova?”

            He nodded, looking over the ring himself for the millionth time.  “Yes.”

            “Tell me everything!” She prompted, pulling his hand closer. It was a simple silver band with three blue gems down the side.  No matter how many times she looked at it, she was still enthralled.

            “We had gone to Striaton City –that’s where he grew up…”

 

 

 

 

 

**Saturday, 7 September 2019.  Afternoon. Striaton City, Unova.**

 

 

            Siebold stood back for a moment, allowing Cress to take the lead of their walk.  It didn’t matter that they were moving slower than a Sliggoo. The way Cress was mesmerized by the city, taking in every sight and sound brought a smile to his face.

            “Oh, I remember, when we were younger,” He began, pointing to an old brick house, “Mrs. Hayden lived there. She would often babysit us for a day, and we just adored her and her son.  He was probably Cilan’s closest friend when we were children. There was also a huge rose garden behind the house.  It was wonderful.”

            Siebold remained silent for the most part, only giving simple commentary when prompted.

            During their walk, Cress abruptly stopped, speechless. 

            Standing beside him, Siebold looked at the building in front of them.  It was an old café with a “for sale” sign in the window. The building looked like it hadn’t been touched in years. 

            “This was my parents’,” he finally mumbled.  He realized he had subconsciously been heading in the direction of their old home. It was strange to be standing in front of the café, but stranger to be standing there with Siebold.

            He smiled before looking back to Siebold.  “I want to show you one last thing while we’re here.”  Grabbing his hand, they resumed their walk. 

            Siebold thought to ask where, but decided that he’d let Cress surprise him.

            The city ended and a huge garden began.  People and pokémon filled the park.  The warm breeze carried with it floral scents.  “Just as beautiful as I remembered,” Cress commented, letting go of Siebold’s hand.

            They walked up to the fountain, taking in the view around them. 

            In that moment, Siebold knew it was time.  However, not in front of everyone.  He wasn’t one for a public proposal.  Surly there was a more secluded section of the gardens. 

            Walking around, they eventually came to a secluded area by the water.  “Cress,” Siebold began, waiting until he had his full attention.

            He grabbed Cress’s hands. “You’ve been extraordinarily patient with me from the moment we met,” he began, “You helped me find it within myself to garner the strength needed to get out of a bad situation. I like to think you make me continuously strive to be a better person.  I wouldn’t want anyone else by my side other than you.”  Letting go, he dropped down to one knee. 

            “Will you make the happiest man I know, and marry me?” 

            There were a few seconds of silence.  Siebold half anticipated that Cress might be rejecting him. 

            The deep breath Cress took broke their silence.  “Siebold, I,” his eyes began to water.  “Yes!”

 

 

 

 

 

            “It wasn’t exactly easy,” Siebold added. 

            Diantha gave him a sympathetic smile.  “I would assume not. But you did it on _your_ terms.  You weren’t constantly being barraged with the idea.”  She placed her hand atop his.  “I’m so very proud of you, Siebold.” 

            He smiled at her. “At the very least, I am excited.”

            She sat back, clasping her hands together.  “I know I mentioned it awhile back, but have you found a counselor?” 

            “Yes. It took forever, unfortunately.”

            She hummed in acknowledgement.

            “I was turned away numerous times once they found out I was taller _and_ weighed more than Jean.  I was told that a man couldn’t be abused.  Sometimes, they would read his name, but read it as a woman’s name. I was then told that I was probably the abuser, and it was ‘disgusting’ how I was blaming my victim. It’s been a nightmare of an experience, really.” 

            She only nodded. She knew he would likely run into that problem.  Years ago, when she had tried to find him help, they had told her the same thing.

            “I think it’s helping, though. That, and now living in a city away from him has helped,” he added. 

            Her smile returned. “If you ever need me for anything, you now how to get ahold of me.” 

            “Of course. I do have a question for you, though.”

            “What might that be?”

            “Would you be willing to be my best woman?” 

            Her eyes instantly lit up. “Of course!  Do you have the date?  The venue?  Siebold, I want to know everything!” 

            “I can tell you it’s going to be in spring.”

            Diantha turned her attention to Cress as he walked in the room.  She was momentarily distracted by the wave of cologne and body wash that followed him as he sat on the opposite couch. 

            “You haven’t set an official date, though?”  She asked.

            Both men nodded. “We’re still deciding on a venue,” Siebold told her. 

            The three visited until Diantha was pulled away by her manager.  Once she was gone, their house fell into silence.  

            “We probably should continue looking for venues here soon,” Cress said, sitting back on the couch with Siebold.

            “I set up a few appointments this coming week.  Tuesday morning at Legacy Gardens here in Laverre, and then around six, I set up a tour of the Prism Tower in Lumiose.” 

            “I thought that was about to become a gym?”  Cress asked.

            “It is, but the battlefield is near the top.  Clemont is open to the idea of using other areas of the tower for a wedding venue,” Siebold explained.

            “A stupid question, probably, but will I be going with you?” 

            Siebold smiled at him. “Of course. It’s _our_ wedding.  You are always welcome to come with me.”

.

.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading.  
> I intend to write a sequel/prequel of sorts. It will take place after the events of this story, during Siebold’s counseling sessions. Through that, we’ll see parts of Cress and Siebold’s future, as well as learn more about Siebold’s history with Jean.  
> The story will be titled: To Repaint Blue Skies
> 
>  
> 
> I would like to take a moment to say two things: 
> 
> This story, obviously, gives an over-idealized scenario to a homeless situation. 
> 
> Homelessness is an issue all across the world. Many times, it’s not obvious. I encourage everyone to do what they can, and donate to your local homeless shelters. If you’re not sure how to go about that, https://www.justgive.org/index.jsp is a good resource. 
> 
> The other thing I would like to address is that, again, this is idealized in Siebold receiving help and getting out of an abusive relationship.  
> Men face a lot of trouble seeking help in abusive relationships. I have been told that http://www.thehotline.org/ is a reliable resource. You can donate to the website to help fund their hotline, and this article, http://www.thehotline.org/2014/07/men-can-be-victims-of-abuse-too/ also lists a few more resources if you or someone you know may need help.


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